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sageskiesf1 · 2 days ago

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In Step with Speed - Lando Norris

✍️ note ; are we enjoying this ??? Is it okayyyy??? Bit slow burn i do apologise but also not bc we all love a cheeky slow burn !!

Chapter four

Italy felt quieter the next morning.

The chaos of the race, the club, the adrenaline—all of it—had finally dimmed, leaving only espresso, sunglasses, and half-hearted goodbyes echoing through the hotel lobby. Primrose, of course, looked flawless in a long beige trench coat, oversized shades, and an iced coffee she wasn’t even drinking—just holding for dramatic flair.

“I think I may be permanently dehydrated,” she announced, flopping dramatically into one of the lobby sofas beside Alexandra, who looked fresh-faced and smug in a matching sweatsuit set. “I danced once. One time. That’s all it takes to kill me.”

“You danced with no one, moved like a cat cornered by a Roomba, and then disappeared for forty minutes, Alexandra replied, sipping her actual coffee. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Primrose smirked behind her sunglasses. “I’m not cute. I’m enigmatic.”

“You’re hungover and emotionally avoidant.”

“Same thing.”

They both laughed.

Luggage wheels rolled somewhere behind them. Charles, Oscar, and Carlos were all saying half-drowsy goodbyes, heading for flights or transport or luxury getaways.

Primrose wasn’t really paying attention. She was too busy pretending her headache didn’t exist and definitely not thinking about Lando—how he had looked at her last night, how close they’d gotten, how her body still hadn’t quite come down from that.

“So,” Alexandra said, brushing croissant crumbs off her lap. “What are you doing next week?”

Primrose blinked. “Next week? Probably... sulking. Recovering. Reading something tragic in a cafe and scaring strangers with my eyeliner.”

Alexandra rolled her eyes. “You’re staying with me in Monaco.”

Primrose raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a kidnapping.”

“It is,” she said sweetly. “You’ve been officially kidnapped. I’m not letting you disappear back to London or Milan or wherever you vanish to after race weekends. Monaco Grand Prix is next. You’re staying in my apartment, and you’re coming to every party, every beach day, every morning coffee run and dog walk.”

“Parties?” Primrose groaned. “I’ve met billionaires with less social stamina than you.”

“You’ll survive. Besides,” Alexandra added with a smirk, “Monaco looks good on you.”

Primrose leaned back against the couch, letting her head fall lazily to one side. “And what if someone else is in Monaco too?”

“You mean someone with floppy hair and a smug smile?”

“I mean someone who’s very full of himself and very good at pushing my buttons and has a shit mullet.”

Alexandra didn’t even blink. “Good. Let him.”

Primrose smirked, lowering her sunglasses slightly. “I hate that you’re always right.”

“I know.”

 Primrose boared a sleek, private transfer with Alexandra—Italy behind them, Monaco glittering ahead. Her phone buzzes in her lap. A message from Lando.

“Recovering? Or still pretending last night didn’t get to you?”

She doesn’t respond.

But she doesn’t stop smiling, either.

——————

Mornings in Monaco had a certain arrogance to them.

Like they knew they were beautiful and didn't have to try. Like the sun here rose just to bounce off cream-colored stone balconies and glint against multi-million-dollar yachts.

Primrose wasn’t mad about being awake early—not really. She’d trained as a ballerina most of her life; 6 a.m. was normal once upon a time. But still, something about waking up before the rest of the city stirred felt unnecessarily ambitious when she wasn’t being paid for it.

She and Charles had just left the gym, both in their workout clothes. She wore cycling shorts which exaggerated her curves, a sleeveless zip-up crop top, and a zip hoodie tied around her waist. Even her messy bun looked deliberate, strands falling just-so. Leo—Charles' over-excited sausage dog—trotted beside them like he’d been the one lifting weights.

“I feel like I’ve been awake for seventeen hours,” she muttered, sipping her smoothie.

“You only did forty minutes of cardio,” Charles replied dryly.

“Forty minutes more than I wanted to do,” she said, side-eyeing him. “Don’t make me regret being a health-conscious goddess.”

Charles snorted. “You love it.”

“I love aesthetic gym wear. I tolerate cardio.”

They strolled down the street, sun-drenched and relaxed. Monaco shimmered quietly around them, too pretty to be real, too expensive to feel entirely comfortable. Still, Primrose had to admit—this place looked good on her.

They were halfway through the square when Charles slowed suddenly. Leo gave a friendly bark and made a beeline toward a café terrace.

Primrose raised a brow. “What now?”

Charles gave her a subtle, knowing glance. “Don’t panic.”

“Oh god,” she muttered. “What am I not panicking about?”

He tilted his head toward the café. “Lando. Max. Incoming awkward brunch situation.”

Sure enough, Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell were seated at a prime spot—sunshine, cappuccinos, smug expressions included. Lando spotted them immediately, his gaze zeroing in on Primrose with all the ease of someone who definitely remembered every word of last night.

Leo, that furry traitor, bounded up to Max as if they were old best friends.

Primrose had no choice now. She adjusted her ponytail, put on her most indifferent face, and strolled over like she hadn’t noticed anything at all.

“Well,” she said smoothly, “if it isn’t the Monaco welcome committee.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, smoothie in hand, smile lazy. “Didn’t expect to see you out this early.”

“Please. I’ve survived 6 a.m. pointe classes. This is nothing.”

“She used to terrify the entire ballet studio at sunrise,” Charles added helpfully, petting Leo. “Still does.”

“Terrifying, huh?” Max grinned. “Sounds on brand.”

Primrose shrugged. “I’m a woman of many moods. Mostly inconvenient ones.”

Lando’s gaze lingered, just for a second too long. “You do look good in gym gear. I’ll give you that.”

She raised a brow. “Careful, Norris. That almost sounded sincere.”

“It was,” he said, ever-so-casual. “Almost.”

The tension wrapped itself around them like morning fog—light, but impossible to ignore. Charles and Max started talking about something else entirely, but Primrose and Lando stayed in their own bubble, just close enough to feel the pull. Until she caught herself leaning and stood straighter, chin lifted.

“Well,” she said finally, “don’t let us interrupt your bro-mantic morning.”

“Oh, you’re not,” Lando replied, eyes glinting. “You’re just making it better.”

“Well,” Primrose clears her throat, “Charles promised me fresh pastries for forcing me to train with him, so flakey carbs here we come.”

—————

The Monaco sky had turned the color of melted lavender, and from Alexandra’s balcony, the sea shimmered like a movie set. The air was warm, still tinged with the scent of salt, blooming jasmine, and rich girl perfume that clung to everything in this part of town.

Primrose curled up on one of the outdoor loungers, legs tucked under her, a half-full wine glass dangling from her fingertips. She wore an oversized sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t hers (Charles, probably), and her face was clean of makeup—just glowing skin, and that slightly sun-kissed Monaco flush.

Alexandra stepped out with a second bottle of wine and two bowls of olives like they were some kind of Mediterranean goddesses. “You’ve been sighing dramatically for twenty straight minutes,” she said. “Do we need to unpack it?”

“I’m not sighing. I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking loudly.”

Primrose narrowed her eyes and took a long sip. “We ran into Lando this morning.”

Alexandra perked up instantly, sliding into the seat beside her like she’d just gotten the gossip exclusive.

“Oh?”

“Accidentally. At some café. With Max.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” she said far too quickly.

Alexandra laughed. “You’re such a bad liar. What happened?”

“He just—he was there, looking all smug and Monaco-tanned and saying things like ‘you look good in gym gear’ with that stupid smoothie in his hand. And I was in full post-gym delusion, probably flushed and shiny.”

“So you looked hot.”

“Unconfirmed,” Primrose muttered. “Anyway, it wasn’t even about how he looked. It was just… the vibe.”

Alexandra tilted her head. “The vibe.”

“You know what I mean. That stupid tension thing. Like he knows he gets under my skin, and now I’m mad that I even give him the satisfaction.”

“Prim,” Alexandra said with a smirk, “you literally argue with him like you’re in a Jane Austen adaptation.”

“I am not flirting with him,” she protested, despite the growing warmth in her cheeks.

Alexandra raised her glass. “Then why are you so flustered?”

“I’m not flustered. I’m just—annoyed. He’s smug and cocky and charming in a really inconvenient way.”

“Ah, there it is.” Alexandra leaned back with a grin. “The inconvenient crush.”

Primrose groaned, sinking lower into the cushions. “It’s not a crush. It’s just… curiosity. You know. Like when something sparkly catches your eye and you’re not sure if it’s a diamond or just really expensive trash. Besides, I have too much on my mind to think about a stupid crush on a boy with a baby mullet.”

Alexandra laughed. “Babe. That man could light a match with one smirk and you know it.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, sipping wine and listening to the gentle hum of the city below.

After a while, Alexandra spoke again, softer now. “You know you don’t have to guard yourself all the time, right?”

Primrose glanced at her, caught off guard by the sincerity. “I’m not guarding,” she said slowly. “I’m just… choosing who gets the chaos. And when.”

Alexandra clinked her glass against hers. “Then maybe it’s okay to let someone try. Even if it’s someone with perfect curls and a deeply annoying jawline.”

Primrose snorted. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm. So’s he. Which is probably why this is so fun to watch.”

The two of them lounge under the stars, wine bottles emptying, and laughter echoing into the Monaco night. Somewhere, deep down, Primrose knows she’s not quite as immune to Lando Norris as she wants to be.

—————

(Monaco, 2:03 a.m.)

The apartment was still. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, and Monaco had quieted just enough that the ocean breeze felt like a lullaby whispering across the city.

Primrose sat curled up on Alexandra’s balcony, an oversized hoodie wrapped around her shoulders, a glass of red wine in one hand and a long, slim Vogue cigarette held lazily between her fingers in the other.

The glow of the ember briefly lit her face as she exhaled, smoke curling around her like silk. There was something romantic about the stillness—something slightly indulgent and deeply hers. The kind of moment she never shared.

Her phone buzzed in her lap.

Lando Norris [2:03am]: are you awake or are you just ignoring me

She stared at the screen, smirking slightly.

Primrose [2:04am]: considering both are options with you x

A few seconds passed.

Lando Norris [2:04am]: rude. i was gonna say i missed you but now i take it back 🙄

Primrose [2:05am]: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

Lando Norris [2:05am]: duh. max said texting u at 2am was a bad idea. so obviously i did it.

Primrose [2:06am]: shocking. the emotional maturity is so overwhelming.

Lando Norris [2:07am]: you like it. also. what are u wearing rn.

Primrose laughed out loud, shaking her head as she took another slow drag of her cigarette.

Primrose [2:07am]: oh no. we’re there already?

Lando Norris [2:08am]: you started it. with the attitude and the wine and probably looking too good even in ugly pajamas.

Primrose [2:08am]: bold of you to assume i wear ugly pajamas.

Lando Norris [2:08am]: i don’t. i think you wear stupidly perfect matching sets and look like a pinterest board at 2am.

She bit her lip, half-smiling, shifting in her seat.

Primrose [2:09am]: how many drinks have you had?

Lando Norris [2:09am]: enough to be brave not enough to lie …you’re thinking about me right now aren’t you?

Her heart stuttered. She cursed him, softly, and took a longer sip of her wine.

Primrose [2:10am]: you’re literally texting me. of course i’m thinking about you. idiot.

Lando Norris [2:10am]: is that you calling me cute again?

Primrose [2:11am]: in your dreams.

Lando Norris [2:11am]: you’re in my dreams, babe.

She choked slightly on her wine. He was too good at this. The confidence. The cheek. The exact right amount of sexy and stupid.

Primrose [2:12am]: don’t make me block you. it’s 2am and i’m tipsy and you’re being unreasonably hot for no reason.

Lando Norris [2:12am]: “unreasonably hot.” i’m gonna frame that. do you smoke when you can’t sleep?

She paused. That was… unexpected.

Primrose [2:13am]: sometimes. don’t tell alexandra. she’ll hold an intervention.

Lando Norris [2:13am]: i won’t i kinda like the idea of you on a balcony messy bun. wine. cigarette. looking all dramatic and irresistible

She blinked slowly, warmth flooding her cheeks in the worst best way. She could feel it—the stupid tension even through a screen.

Primrose [2:14am]: you’re being weirdly poetic

Lando Norris [2:14am]: or maybe just honest you want me to come over?

Her heart thudded.

Primrose [2:14am]: lando

Lando Norris [2:15am]: not like that (unless...) just want to see you swear

She stared at the message for a long time, thumb hovering. She typed. Deleted. Typed again.

Primrose [2:16am]: you’re lucky i’m wearing lip balm and not mascara

Lando Norris [2:16am]: that means yes, right?

She didn’t reply.

Not because she wasn’t tempted. But because if he showed up now—saw her in this quiet, vulnerable state—she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide how much she wanted to fall for the exact thing she swore she’d avoid.

Instead, she stubbed out her cigarette, sipped the last of her wine, and texted:

Primrose [2:18am]: goodnight, norris. don’t dream too hard x

The three dots appeared. Then stopped.

No reply.

But she knew—knew—he was still thinking about her.

Just like she was thinking about him.

———-

After sending her final message, Primrose lowered her phone and leaned back against the balcony railing, eyes drifting out over the glowing Monaco skyline.

She sighed, the breath heavy with more than just the late hour and wine. This week was supposed to be a break — a “week off” from everything. But the truth was, it was more like a pause she didn’t know how to press play from.

The ballet world had always been her anchor, her identity. But lately, the thought of stepping away, maybe even retiring, crept in more often than she wanted to admit. She hadn’t told anyone. Not Alexandra, not Charles, not even herself fully.

It weighed on her — the uncertainty, the fear, the silence of what might come next.

Tonight, alone on this balcony, with the cigarette smoke twisting into the warm night air, Primrose felt the sharp edges of that vulnerability prick through her carefully crafted armor.

For once, she didn’t fight it.

She just let the quiet settle, the tension in her chest loosening just a little.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando smut #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x you #lando fluff #lando fanfic

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windyremedy · 1 month ago

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reeling revelation

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: finding out their bestfriend is a dad in the most unexpected way possible.

Time constraints and lack of availability are impossible to avoid and meeting up since after highschool had only gotten harder and harder. Each time they actually got close to hanging out, someone suddenly has to cancel because of either work related issues or whatever else it may be. Though everyone’s understanding for the most part including Mina but her in particular quite frankly had enough.

So when Bakugou called Kirishima up explaining that he couldn’t make it after 4/5 of the Bakusquad members attended she just couldn’t let it happen again and so she and really all of them were graciously invited (totally did not whine and beg) to the Bakugou household which doesn’t happen very often.

Last time anyone came there was back when they were just starting out their pro hero lives. It was honestly a surprise to everyone aside from probably Midoriya that Bakugou got married so early but they were invited to your wedding and from what they could tell you were super nice.

When they finally knocked on the huge door they were expecting everything else but an unimpressed look of what seems to be a mini Bakugou, almost a mirror copy of their best pal’s expression who did not inform them that he was now a dad.

Although he wasn’t a complete copy and paste with most of his facial features being from his mom and mainly baby Bakugou’s hair being a different color but his eyes, oh they knew that sharp ruby stare from anywhere. It was actually kinda worrisome how he seemed to pick up Bakugou’s temperament at their antics. Maybe they would even feel kinda intimidated (as much as you can with a baby at least) but he looked too cute all bundled up in an all might themed suit with a white pacifier in his mouth.

“Bakugou! you never told us you had a baby?” Mina excitedly exclaimed, squealing from the cuteness.

“Yeah! I thought we were your best buds??!!” Kaminari dramatically shouted in betrayal.

Bakugou shuffled Ryuu to a more comfortable position after the little one turned away from his loud friends.

“Didn’t know how to bring up and well you never asked.” he answered busy handling Ryuu who was getting more agitated by the second.

“So it’s our fault you never shared this big fact about your life?” Sero half joking half wryly asked.

“Yeah, you dumbasses would fuckin— shit nevermind.” He tried to recover placing his palms around Ryuu’s ears.

“Why is he so annoyed already? don’t tell me you’ve been talking bad about us?!! don’t hate me baby Bakugou.” Kirishima pleaded.

“S’ names Ryuu and he’s not mad at you, just thought it was his mom at the door. Come in before he actually kicks you out.”

“You mean you kick us out?” Kaminari corrected.

“Yeah, yeah.”

As they stepped inside the house they took notice of the evident amount of family pictures along the walls and on cabinets. Both admiring and unnerved about seeing Bakugou look so soft in all of them. They’ve seen many expressions from Bakugou before some more than others (like annoyance and anger) but this was a wholenother level they weren’t at all used to.

Leading to the living room where building blocks can be seen scattered across. They each took a seat around the area, Mina asking about your whereabouts as she sat.

“She’s coming back soon, supposed to be here today but her work called this morning and she had to come in.” he informed going into the connected kitchen.

“Ohhh that’s why you couldn’t come.” Kaminari solved albeit a bit late.

“Yep, sorry about that.” he apologized although not sounding at all affected by not being able to meet up with his self proclaimed friends (they are friends).

Grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge as he fed it to Ryuu who sleepily closed his eyes.

“Bet you didn’t want to anyway. I mean I wouldn’t either, look how cute this little guy is.” Sero admitted getting cute aggression from Ryuu’s chubby little cheeks.

Bakugou only nodded, half heartedly listening to the conversations while chiming in once in awhile before getting back to rocking Ryuu to sleep. Who seemed to be dozing off before he jolted up after hearing the familiar ring of the doorbell.

“Hold on a second.” Bakugou briefed before going to the open the door, not knowing he was being secretly followed.

“Hey Kats.” you greeted lovingly as he pecked you on the lips, hugging you in the process as well as Ryuu whose arms signaled that he wanted to be handed over for a hug too.

“Hello to you too my little dragon.” you smiled as he wrapped his small arms around your neck.

Standing there by the doorway both of you failed to notice the scooby stack happening behind the corner of the doorframe sniffling at the domestic sight.

“This is so beautiful.” Kaminari sobbed.

Kirishima nodded in agreement. “What a manly sight indeed.”

“I’m so proud of him.” Mina whispered whilst shedding a tear.

Setting aside the dramatics Sero smiled, happy for his friend. “He definitely made it.”

©windyremedy

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #remfics☁️

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luludeluluramblings · 10 months ago

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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part One

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Rewrite

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’ve been hyper fixated on Batfam and DC in general for the past two months, and this is what my brain has been cooking. This is based on an fem!OC I made, but I converted it to GN!Reader. Or attempted to. Might write an official one with the oc. I don’t know. I’m new at this stuff and doing this on mobile to boot.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

Reader grows up happy, healthy, a safe away from Gotham

Momma and Daddy (step-father) adore their darling reader

Daddy is kind and understanding; gives good advice, encourages reader, comforts reader after nasty break ups

Momma is sassy and a bit possessive of her baby reader

Momma never tells reader anything about their biological father (He was a big city playboy that missed the court date for custody is all she said)

Reader has a much younger half-brother from Momma and Daddy, who reader also adores

Little Brother’s are annoying, but you have so many interest in common

Suddenly Momma and Daddy are dead; (tragic accident or murdered)

Reader’s Bio Father, Bruce Wayne is called and flies into town via Private Jet and whisk you off to Gotham

Bruce can’t get custody over half-brother due to Reader’s step-grandparents fighting him.

(They tried to keep Reader too, but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court. And, Bruce has enough money to make that water run dry)

Bruce isn’t exactly like Momma described, he’s distant and a bit cold with reader. (Like he doesn’t know what to do.)

Bruce gets upset when Reader talks about missing Momma and Daddy, especially when Reader talks about Daddy.

Bruce doesn’t introduce Reader to the family right away.

Reader doesn’t see anyone, but Bruce and Alfred for the first week at the manor.

Bruce avoids reader, but gets upset when Reader ignores him

Reader starts researching their new family. Everything they can find in the media, even the company.

(Family Buisness funds the Justice League? Gotham gains a new Vigilante almost every time Bruce gains a new kid? Jason Todd’s death and reappearance. Suspicious…)

Reader finally meets the others.

First up Cassandra.

Quite, but watches reader like she knows all of reader’s secrets. (That’s terrifying.)

Reader’s instincts scream that she’s dangerous (Reader trusts those instincts.)

Reader is still nice, they get along. Cass rather be alone, but it’s cool. They’re cool.

Second up is Duke.

Duke is great. Official bro. Passes all the vibe checks. (Most normal one in this house.)

Reader’s meta abilities go haywire around him, so Reader needs to be careful. (Reader’s not sharing that secret yet. Not till they share what Reader suspects is their secret)

Third, Dick and Barbara.

Dick is a whirlwind, coddling and pitying, treating reader like a sweet helpless child then leaving. (He’s a busy popular man)

Barbara is polite, but a stranger.

Reader tries to be friendly, but can’t get past the stranger stage.

Fourth Stephanie.

Stephanie politely ignores reader, but reader genuinely wants to hang out. (Similar interest, close in age. Please, can we be friends? ……….)

Reader says they’ll keep trying (It happens… eventually….)

Fifth, Tim.

Tim just brushes Reader off with a blank look and disappears.

Reader can never find Tim. (Always in the cave, at work, on patrol. He’s a busy busy busy sleepy man that avoids even the mention of Reader)

(Stephanie hangs out with Tim though, but they still ignore reader. It’s fine. Reader is fine. It doesn’t hurt.)

Sixth is Jason.

Jason is mean.

Calls reader spoiled, says reader a an ignorant privileged princess, Daddy’s pet, a brat, etc.

But, then leaves when reader starts to snap back.

(He looks like he’s struggling not to strangle reader almost every time reader sees him.)

Seventh is the youngest and reader’s half brother.

Reader is excited to meet him, reader already has a younger half-brother. Having two sounds even better!

Damian is cruel

It breaks reader’s heart.

Damian either ignores reader, or mocks reader viscously. He’ll push and shove and throw things at reader. (Won’t draw a weaponed though, he’s past that.)

He brushes off all of Reader’s attempts at sibling bonding.

All this goes on for a few months.

Reader tries so hard to get close to everyone, but they’re either avoid them, ignore them, are cruel, or they just don’t have the time.

Reader’s life in Gotham is… different.

Reader’s a commodity, and, surprisingly enough, most people like Reader

School Friendships form, which reader worries are because they’re a Wayne child

(Which is true, but not in the way Reader thinks; hint: it involves other types of night avians)

Teacher’s appreciate a humble Wayne (Damian goes to the same school, Reader is a relief to teach)

Reader is quite talented, not a prodigy, not extraordinary. Just extremely approachable.

But, like all good things there is a downside.

Reader wants to spend time with their new friends.

They’re invited to Galas, lunches, brunches, vacations, shopping, etc.

And Reader WANTS to go

But, Bruce won’t let them

It’s not safe

(Which Reader understands, that’s why they never really explore Gotham, but still brunch couldn’t hurt, right?)

So Reader has no one to lean on or connect with. It’s isolating.

Instead Reader spends hours talking on the phone to their old friends and family back in their small town.

There’s a silver lining though: Things are going to get better before they get worse

So much worse

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mauswyx · 11 months ago

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soft-spoken s/o

TLDR: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, Jennifer Check, and Bo Sinclair's reactions to having a fairly quiet s/o WORD COUNT: 1k CW: none, fluff AO3

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Thomas Hewitt

ironically would not be used to the silence at first; he’s used to chatters and screaming! He’s never met someone who speaks so quietly

will lean towards you when you speak, listening intensely

finds your silence comforting after the initial shock and enjoys your quiet presence as he goes about his business

quickly adapts to communicating with you via body language and facial expressions, etc; it is a method he’s familiar with after all

takes great pride that he’s the only one that can read your mind or decipher your mumbling

He couldn’t help but spare you a glance every so often as you sat at the opposite end of the barn as he worked. You were mending a shirt Luda Mae scavenged from some luggage…or at least trying to. Your bottom lip was swollen from being gnawed on and your brow was furrowed–the needlework must be tedious, he concluded. He turned his attention back to his work, a few minutes passed before he decided to glance up again only to find that you were muttering to yourself, trying to rethread the string through the eye.

Despite finding your frustration amusing, he couldn’t take your suffering anymore. He strode over to you, gently enveloping your hand in his before plucking the needle away. He made quick work of the thread, giving you a knowing look as he set back to work, but not before hearing a quiet “Thank you Tommy.”

Brahms Heelshire

does not enjoy that he can’t coax loud reactions from you; he works so hard to mess with you and you don’t say anything?! How rude!

will switch gears and will purposefully pretend not to know what you’re gesturing to or that he can’t hear you to annoy you; he can play by your game but he won’t play fair

he’s been (watching) studying you through the walls so it’s quite easy for him to pick up on your body language to know what you’re feeling or wanting of him

actually likes your voice and will do everything in his power to get you to use it; even if it means getting a scolding

bedtime is his favorite part of the day because he gets to listen to you read; will pick out exceptionally long books to listen to you just a while longer

Echoes etched the room as you tapped your foot against the dusty rug. He had been in a mood all afternoon: being especially disobedient and ignoring your calls from within the walls. He was being so difficult that you had no choice but to search for him, though it proved to be in vain as you couldn’t find him anywhere. A worried knot began to form in your stomach. There was only one thing you could do. With a deep inhale you rolled your head on your shoulders before letting out a shout.

“Brahms!” Your voice was hoarse–not used to being at such a volume, rolling your eyes in frustration “Please come out!” The scraping of wood met your ears shortly before his long arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You bit the interior of your cheek as you could hear the smugness in his voice, having won his game.

“There’s no need to shout.”

Jennifer Check

“they said no pickles.” embodiment

at first, mistakes your quietness for being flustered by her and she amps up her prowess only to realize you’re like this…all the time…with everyone

will speak for you whether it’s ordering your food or answering a question on your behalf; is actually exceptionally good at knowing what you want without much effort

actually doesn’t mind the silence when you don’t feel like talking—grateful that you two can just share a moment together or that she can have someone to rant to

will not make a big deal if you feel talkative, she’ll casually continue the conversation in hopes it’ll make you feel more comfortable

“-and who does that? It’s bullshit!” she scoffed, gently scraping the tips of her long nails on the back of your hand as she laid next to you. You silently nodded in agreement, staring up at her face: her nose was scrunched and her eyes were glazed over, lost in thought–before suddenly snapping down to stare into your own. “I mean, you don’t think I’m in the wrong do you?”

You couldn’t help letting your lip curl up at her pout, she had definitely been the cause of the altercation but you’d never tell her that; instead, you opted to halfheartedly shake your head. As expected, your poor acting didn’t go unnoticed and her eyes widened before playfully swatting her hand at your stomach.

“No way! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Bo Sinclair

“huh” x5

cannot understand what you’re saying for the life of him and gets annoyed very easily; more so at his own inability to comprehend you when everyone else seems to understand you just fine

interrupts you when you’re speaking, trying to guess what you’re saying instead of just listening

puts on a big show to do as you asked when he does finally pick up on what you’re saying

often wrongly infers what you’re saying but at least he’s trying

“Darlin’…'' he groaned, running a hand down his face “-you’re gunna needa work with me…” You huffed out a breath of air, already annoyed at having had to already repeat yourself twice and repeating yourself a third time honestly wasn’t even worth it; you just wanted the step-ladder to reach something in top-stock, but at this point you’d rather just climb the shelves themselves than have to be stuck in this never ending game of charades. You were half-tempted to do just that, but the look on Bo’s face made you relent; he had been so patient the least you could do was not give up on him.

“I need the ladder…” you said again, this time trying to enunciate your words as best as possible and to your surprise his face lit up. Not a great sign.

“Bladder?” he repeated, not waiting for a response as he sped towards the shop counter, “Don’t worry baby! I’ll get the restroom key!”

#slashers #wanted to try writing something different ;v;#thomas hewitt #brahms heelshire #jennifer check #bo sinclair #my writing #texas chainsaw massacre #house of wax #the boy 2016 #the boy movie #jennifers body #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #bo sinclair x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #jennifer check x reader

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0cta9on · 4 months ago

Text

Moon Rabbit

Length: +12k words

Genre: Smut

Gfriend/Viviz Eunha x Male Reader

(Author's Note: This is like 90% story and 10% smut, but I hope y'all enjoy anyways :> Thank you to @msafterhours for beta, this story wouldn't be alive without you <3 Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Amongst the monotonous drone of the harsh fluorescent lights and the mysterious smell emanating from the bathrooms, it’s hard not to feel a little pessimistic about life. It would be so easy to air out your long list of grievances to anyone that’ll listen, but complaining to the kind of people this place attracts—late night travelers who’d struggle putting two and two together— is always more trouble than it’s worth.

“Welcome to 7/11!”

The ring of the entrance chime followed by the soft yet enthusiastic voice of your coworker is a constant that you have yet to get used to, even after a whole three weeks of hearing it nonstop. You told Eunha plenty of times before that she doesn’t have to greet the customers, yet she continues to do so anyway, something about “responsibility” and “upholding the company’s image”—as if the company’s image isn’t rotisserie hot dogs and gallon-sized slushies.

At best, she’ll get a polite nod, at worst, they scoff and act as if a simple gesture is the worst thing that’s ever happened to them. Her greetings might be more suited to the morning crowd, but she insists that she’s not much of a morning person. You don’t exactly care enough to verify her statements, so you’re content with her keeping you company during the night shift.

“Let me know if you need help with anything!” Eunha calls out to the customer as he aimlessly wanders through the aisles. You’ve grown accustomed to the late night visits from these kinds of people, guys in their early 20’s who seem either too drunk and/or faded to respond properly; hopefully, he’ll just quietly pay for his things and leave without any trouble.

“Yo,” he utters, carelessly dropping a single beer can and a box of large condoms onto the counter. You give him a curt nod, trying not to make a face as the violent stench of weed attacks your nostrils. Figures.

“$7.50.”

“Hey bro, do you know if that chick over there has a boyfriend?” He looks over at Eunha as she stocks the shelves, baggy eyes tracing her body through a half-lidded gaze. You simply shrug. Whatever she does outside of work is none of your business.

The man chuckles to himself, grabbing his things off the counter. “Watch this.” He saunters over to her and engages in a conversation that you can’t quite make out. Even as you try to distract yourself with other work, you can’t help but tense up slightly, stealing glances towards your coworker.

Eunha puts on her signature smile, nodding her head to everything he’s saying. Occasionally she’ll laugh, more so out of politeness than anything. If you would have to describe her with one word, “polite” would probably be enough. Maybe overly so, but hey, who’re you to judge her of all people about small talk?

Then, you notice a small crack in her expression. The corners of her lips drop ever so slightly. Her eyes widen just a smidge. Now he’s walking towards her, backing her up into a corner, like a predator stalking its prey.

You’ve learned not to stick your nose into other people’s business; even the simple act of lending an ear has cost you time and energy that ultimately led you to getting kicked to the curb the second you’re no longer of use. It’s exhausting. You’d do anything to forget that kind of pain, even if it means your existence is a bit lonelier. And yet, despite your better judgment, you grab a spare broom and begin sweeping towards the problem, stepping in between them right as Eunha’s back hits one of the fridges.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, your eyes never leaving the ground.

“Bro, what the fuck are you—”

“I’m trying to do my job,” you state, jerking your neck to glare at him. The man scoffs in annoyance before stomping towards the exit, grumbling incoherently while he knocks a couple chip bags off the shelves.

“Thanks,” Eunha says, breathing a sigh of relief. “He kept asking for my number and wouldn’t stop after I said ‘no’. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

You shrug, continuing to sweep the rest of the store. In hindsight, there might not have been a need for you to intervene in the first place; Eunha is a grown woman that can probably take care of herself, and what kind of damage could a guy like that do anyways? Yet, despite everything, you still chose to play the hero. What’s done is done.

As you go back to your place by the register, you notice Eunha beaming brighter than ever before despite no one else being around.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha groans, face planting into the counter. “I’m bored.”

“You could deep clean the coffee machine,” you suggest, eliciting an even louder groan from her.

You think about telling her to switch to the afternoon shift, but refrain from it in the end, figuring she probably has her own reasons for wanting to work this late. You chose the night shift out of necessity more than anything. Countless sleepless nights led you to the conclusion that you might as well get some compensation for your suffering.

Eunha’s face suddenly lights up as she goes over to the fridges and grabs two beer cans. “We should drink!” she says.

“Those are for the customers,” you state.

“I’ll pay for them, dummy. Besides, there’s literally nothing else to do. No one has stopped by for hours.”

You stare at her pleading face, slightly impressed by how well she manages to pull off “puppy-dog eyes”. You don’t consider yourself much of a drinker—going down that road only left you with an unbearable sickness that made “taking the edge off” not even worth it—but a hunch in the back of your mind tells you to go for it anyways. Maybe “puppy-dog eyes” actually do work; maybe the boredom’s gotten to you too.

“Woohoo!” she cheers. “Let’s go sit out front! I wanna look at the stars.” Eunha grabs the cans and a large bag of chips from the shelf before running out of the store with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. With a sigh, you follow behind her.

Your breath catches in your throat as the outside chill hits you like a speeding train, sending an unpleasant shiver through your spine that makes you regret even considering this stupid idea. You turn to retreat back to the warmth of the store, but a brief glimpse of Eunha waving you down with such genuine enthusiasm pulls you in, and before you can even think to stop yourself, you’re already grabbing the beer can from her outstretched hand.

“Isn’t it beautiful tonight?” she comments, gazing up at the stars above. It’s… nice. Better than the harsh fluorescent lights of the store, for sure.

“Yeah,” you utter, taking a swig from your can. You grimace at the bitterness, a reminder of why you stopped in the first place.

“Woah pal, I don’t need to hear your life story,” she quips, chuckling at her own joke. “Isn’t this better than being stuck in that smelly old store all night?”

You shrug. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

She stares at you for a while, studying your expression with a focused squint.

“...What?” you mutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze.

“Nothing, sorry.” She shakes her head, her gaze falling to the unopened beer in her hands. A tense moment passes before she finally clicks it open and takes a small sip, wincing as she swallows the bitter liquid. “Um, do you… hate me or something?”

You turn to her in confusion. “Hate” isn’t a word you associate with Eunha. Truly, you don’t think anyone could hate someone like her. Maybe you get a little irked by her inability to set up the shelves properly, but nobody’s perfect, least of all you. In fact, you don’t have any strong feelings about her one way or another. She’s just your coworker.

Just that.

Nothing else.

“No, not at all,” you reply.

A small grin forms on Eunha’s lips. “That’s good. I was worried that maybe I did something and that’s why you never talk to me.”

Huh? “I talk to you.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, like, really talking. Not just about work and stuff,” she explains. “We’ve been working together for, like, months and I barely know anything about you!”

“It’s barely been three weeks,” you correct her, earning a dramatic eye roll. “Do you really need to know anything about me to work here?”

Eunha grimaces at your answer. “I guess not, but it would be nice to know if I’m working with a serial killer or not.” She takes another small sip from her can, tension seeping into the frigid air between you two.

“I’m not a serial killer,” you state.

“Well, I wouldn’t know that if you didn’t tell me.”

“I could be lying.”

She turns to you, studying your expression with an intense focus. “Hmm… I don’t think you’re lying.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. “For starters, aren’t most serial killers supposed to be charming to lure in their victims and stuff? No offense, but you’re the least charming person I’ve ever met.”

“Better than being a serial killer I guess.”

She chuckles to herself, dissolving any lingering tension in the air. “So you have a sense of humor. That’s good to know.”

“I guess I do.”

Eunha lifts her can towards you, flashing you a warm smile that wards away the bitter winds. You watch as the corners of her lips curl at a certain angle, her eyes squinting ever so slightly to make room to smile even wider. How impossibly white and symmetrical her teeth are, as if god or whoever is up there took their time creating her. In hindsight, she’s probably perfect for this job - kind, inviting, instantly putting you at ease with a single glance. A smile seems so natural on her, it feels like the sky would fall if it disappeared from her face for even a moment.

“Hello?” She waves her hand in front of your face. “My arm is getting tired here, are you gonna cheers me or not?”

You shake your head. “Right. Sorry.” You clink your can against hers before bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste of alcohol is nonexistent at this point, replaced by subtle yet present undertones of sweetness. You peek through the top of the can, confirming that it’s still the same old cheap beer it was mere seconds ago. Yet, for now, it’s just a little more bearable.

______________________________________________________________

To put it lightly, this fucking sucks.

The shadows dance and jeer at you from your ceiling as if to celebrate your misfortune. All you can do is watch the show play out as you barely cling to life. An earlier Google search of your symptoms tells you that it’s just “a common cold”, but you’d swear Death itself has a personal vendetta with you, cursing you with rusty lungs and cinder blocks for limbs. Regretfully, you retrieve your phone from your nightstand, sending Eunha a text that you aren’t able to make it to work tonight.

A sudden weight jumping onto your chest causes you to drop your phone onto the floor. Two yellow marbles coldly stare at you through the darkness, silently judging your poor condition.

“Y-Yokai, please… I can’t b-breathe…” With weak hands, you try to gently push your cat off of your chest, but it’s no use. Every time you try to get close, the little beast nips at your fingers.

This is it. This is how you die. You never believed in the superstition about black cats, but perhaps you should’ve heeded its warning. Maybe this is his way of telling you that he never liked you in the first place, in spite of all you’ve done for him as his caretaker. Years from now, when someone finally notices that you’re missing, they’ll find your corpse with Yokai resting right on top, like he’s gloating about outliving you. You shut your eyes, quickly accepting your fate. On the brightside, maybe you’ll finally get some sleep for once.

A knock on your front door causes him to jump off your chest to inspect the noise. You silently thank the stranger at your front door as your lungs finally fill with air. As far as you’re concerned, they just saved your life.

WIth a blanket wrapped around you, you struggle against your headache and stumble towards the door. The person on the other side makes you wonder if you should add hallucinations to your list of symptoms.

“Hi!” Eunha beams at you, a plastic bag in her hands. “I brought you some stuff to help with your cold!”

“H-huh?” You stand there in shock, a million questions floating through your head. “What about the store?”

She shrugs. “I closed it for a bit. I’m sure the two customers that would’ve shown up tonight will live.”

Never in a million years did you expect anyone, aside from the occasional delivery man, to show up to your doorstep, let alone with the purpose of providing you aid. It’s… nice. You’re probably better off with a good night’s rest, but god knows you’ll never get one.

“Are you gonna invite me in? It’s rude to keep a woman waiting, y’know,” she teases.

“R-right.” You step aside, allowing her into your apartment that hasn’t seen another human soul the entire time you’ve lived in it. As luck would have it, another person arrives on the one day that you’re unable to clean anything. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It’s alright—Oh!” Yokai leaps from the shadows, stopping just a few feet in front of her to inspect the stranger entering his home. “Hi there! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!”

Eunha kneels down to his level and offers her hand towards him. Taking the invitation, Yokai approaches her with cautious yet curious steps, his eyes dilated and ready. After a seemingly tense moment, his pupils soften as he presses his small face into her palms, accepting her enthusiastic pets.

“I can’t believe you never told me about your cat!” she playfully berates you. “What’s its name?”

“His name is Yokai,” you answer, collapsing haphazardly onto the couch. “Found him on the street when I first moved here.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “You named your cat after Japanese demons?”

You shrug. “It seemed fitting at the time.”

Eunha chuckles, giving him one last pet before placing the bag on the table. “I brought you some cold meds, green tea, and a can of chicken soup. Is it alright if I use your kitchen to heat up the soup?”

You wave her off. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

She rolls her eyes at you, grabbing the can and walking over to the kitchen in defiance. “If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve just dropped it off and left.”

With barely any energy left to argue, you resign yourself to resting your head against the armrest, listening to the clanging of metal and the creaking of wood as Eunha searches your cabinets for a pot. Three flickers followed by the gentle poof of the stovetop bring you back to simpler times when your mother would cook meals for you as a kid. That comforting feeling of knowing that everything would end up okay even if the current times are tough.

A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope isn’t something you like to cling onto; you know at this point that hoping for something as supposedly inevitable as sleep is a waste of time. Some nights you’ll get lucky, the stars will align and you’ll fade into bliss as soon as your head hits the pillow, but those nights are so few and far between that they might as well be nothing but coincidences. It was much harder during the earlier days. Countless checkups, thousands of desperate Google searches and Reddit posts, downing melatonin like the next gummy could solve all your problems.

And yet, as the savory scent of chicken soup lingers closer, you can feel your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Eunha says, nudging you gently. “The soup is gonna get cold if you don’t eat it now.”

“Right.” You sit up, finding yourself mere inches from her bright smile, the steam from the soup wafting in between you two. She brings a spoonful of the warming liquid to your lips, blowing on it first to cool it down.

“Open wide,” she says.

“I can feed myself.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Humor me for a sec. Besides, when’s the next time a pretty girl like me is gonna spoon feed you soup?”

You stifle a chuckle at her shamelessness, reluctantly parting your lips. The saltiness washes over your tastebuds, warming your entire body as the liquid slides down your throat. It’s the same cheap chicken soup you’ve eaten before when money was scarce, yet something about it feels different; like it’s healing your heart, not your stomach. Perhaps your illness is messing with your tastebuds, but whatever the reason, it tastes way better than it normally would.

“See, was that so hard?” Eunha teases. A buzz from her pocket interrupts her from giving you a second spoonful. “Sorry, I need to take this real quick, it’s my boyfriend.”

So she does have a boyfriend.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say, retrieving the bowl from her. She gives you an appreciative grin before walking over to the kitchen and answering the call.

Whatever goes on in Eunha’s personal life is her business, not yours. Yet, you can’t exactly stop your ears from catching onto glimpses of words, attempting to decipher some kind of meaning through the fog. None of it is coherent, but her disappointed sighs and harsh whispers don’t exactly paint a pretty picture—certainly not one you expect from a loving couple.

After a brief moment, Eunha walks back into the living room, her expression noticeably darker than before. The smile that she usually dons is jarringly absent and her eyes are glossy, as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Sorry, um… I have to go,” she mutters, unable to meet your eyes. “I have to pick up my boyfriend, he’s, uh… been drinking again.”

You can’t help but feel worried at her sudden downtrodden look, unfamiliar on her face. “That’s alright. Will you be okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be fine.” She tries to put on a reassuring smile, but the look of dread dripping from her eyes and the lack of soul in her expression only leaves you more anxious than before. “He gets like this sometimes. It’s… nothing, really.”

An unfamiliar feeling grows in the pit of your stomach, an urge to provide some ounce of comfort. But this isn’t your place to intervene; that’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then? Or whenever you feel better.” Eunha quickly gathers her things and heads towards the door, but Yokai jumps in front of her.

“Bye, Yokai. I hope this isn’t the only time I see you,” she says, offering him a few gentle pets. Right before she disappears behind the door, Eunha looks back at you, holding an expression you can’t quite read. The door shuts with an audible click, and the vast emptiness of your apartment envelopes you once again.

Suffice to say, you don’t get much sleep that night.

______________________________________________________________

“So…” Eunha tilts her head to give you a better look. “What do you think?”

You shrug. “It’s… pink.”

Her lips curl into a pout, unsatisfied with your answer. “This is the first time you’ve seen me dye my hair and that’s all you can say?”

It’s another quiet night at the store, somehow quieter than usual. These late night chats with Eunha have become a sort of tradition between you two, a tradition you’ve grown decently fond of these past few weeks. Nowadays, she doesn’t even bother with the alcohol, instead simply asking you if you want to watch the stars with her. The chilly nights are still a bit bothersome, but the company more than makes up for it at this point.

Conversations mostly consist of listening to her talk about things in her personal life, her school, her friends, and occasionally, her boyfriend. Sometimes she’ll ask questions about your own life. You try your best to answer, but frankly, you don’t consider there to be anything worth noting. She’ll pry a bit, but respects your choice to be quiet about these things. A gesture that you’ve come to appreciate.

“What am I supposed to say?” you ask her.

“Anything,” she says. “Whatever’s on your mind. I just wanna know what your opinion is.”

“But it’s your hair, why should my opinion matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t, but that doesn’t make me any less curious.” She shifts herself towards you, giving you a good view of her new look. “So, tell me. What do you think?”

A loaded question for sure. You know better than to be too honest about these kinds of things, but you also know that she won’t be satisfied unless you put effort towards a real, honest answer. You lean in to better analyze her features, tracing every single detail of not just her hair but the visage that it crowns.

She’s cute, you think. You know. The bright pink of her hair brings out the porcelain of her skin, giving her the appearance of a doll, well crafted and loved by its creator. Every single feature is perfectly and meticulously placed, down to the spacing of her eyelashes and the angle of her nose. It’s no surprise the amount of stories she has about getting hit on in random places. Maybe if you had a bit more confidence and a bit less sense, you would’ve ended up like one of those stories. But you know better than to indulge those kinds of thoughts, especially one about a coworker.

“It looks… nice,” you utter after a moment of thinking.

Eunha softly chuckles to herself. “I guess that’s about as good of an answer I’m gonna get from you.” She leans back against her palms, releasing a deep breath into the night. “You’re pretty fun to talk to.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. 99% of your conversations consist of her talking while you listen and offer the occasional nod. She might as well be speaking to a brick wall with a conscience.

“I’m serious,” she says, laughing at your expression. “Y’know, a lot of girls like a guy that can listen as well as you do.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Her lips quiver in hesitation before speaking again. “Do you… have a girlfriend?”

You shake your head no.

“Boyfriend? Partner? I don’t judge.”

No again.

“Hmm…” She nods, her mind falling into deep thought. “That’s surprising.”

“Is it?” you argue. “If I remember correctly, you said I was ‘the least charming person you’ve ever met’.”

“That was a joke!” she exclaims. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that thinks you’re charming.”

You shrug, letting your gaze float to the stars in contemplation. You’ve had your fair share of relationships in the past, good and bad. You thought you would spend the rest of your life with the last girl, but as fate would have it, that just wasn’t in the cards for either of you. The days spent lazing in each other’s arms suddenly turned into nights where being in the same room was unbearable, and the minor quirks you once adored became the topic of all your shouting matches that punctuated the end of your relationship.

So now you’re here, working at a convenience store during the ungodly hours of the night and going home to a cat that likely wants you dead.

“That’s a possibility,” you say, not wanting to sound too nihilistic.

“Come on, give yourself some credit.” Eunha pats your shoulder supportively. “I’ve seen how some of the female customers look at you.”

You can’t help but grimace at her words. “They’re not really… my type.”

“Then what is your type?” she asks, eyes wide with intrigue.

Another loaded question, one that you honestly don’t know the answer to. Or perhaps, an answer that you don’t want to materialize, for fear of the can of worms it would open, so you take the easy way out.

“I don’t know. I’m not really interested in dating right now.”

“That’s lame, dating is… Well, it should be fun,” she says. A glimpse of something hides beneath her expression, nigh imperceptible if it wasn’t for that brief glint in her eyes. “I’m going to a club with my friends this weekend for my birthday, you should come! Maybe I can set you up with one of them.”

“No, absolutely not,” you adamantly refuse. A club is the last place you would ever want to go to on a weekend. Bumping against sweaty strangers in a cramped space while bass boosted garbage spews from the speakers isn’t your idea of fun.

“Please, it’s for my birthday!” she begs. “It’ll be fun, I swear!”

“Eunha.”

She clasps her hands together, pouting her lip and flashing you those large puppy eyes. “Please~”

You don’t consider yourself to be spineless or a pushover; the exact opposite, in fact. The less you do for others, the less issues you’ll have going forward.

But it is really, really difficult to say no whenever she gives you that face.

You sigh, averting your gaze to hide the blush creeping against your cheeks. “...What does your friend look like?”

Eunha squeals in delight, fishing her phone from her pocket. “Here.”

She hands you her phone, displaying a photo of a woman around your age. Long, wavy hair cascades perfectly down her shoulders, framing her delicate features, while a dress made of fiery purples and reds clings to her slim frame, giving her an air of class and maturity. A woman that’s, to put it bluntly, way out of your league.

“Her name is Yuju,” Eunha explains. “She’s really into music, and she takes pole dancing classes on the weekends. Pretty hot, eh?”

“I suppose,” you say. “You think she’ll find me ‘charming’?”

“Ye—Hmm… I guess we’ll find out.”

Not reassuring in the slightest. You’ve gone and doomed yourself to a weekend of brushing backsides with the worst people you can imagine, people who have no regard for personal space or public perception, all for a woman you don’t know.

Well, not a woman you don’t know. It’s for Eunha’s birthday, after all. Her and those damn eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha is good company. You like having her around, even if you’ll never admit that to her. She’s good—decent at her job, and in between the stench of hot dogs and the occasional rude customer, there’s comfort in knowing that there’s someone like her on this godforsaken planet.

You can’t say the same about her friends.

“Hey~!”

“OMG, you’re so tall!”

“Eunha, your friend is so handsome!”

Skip the pleasantries entirely, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now. They don’t even try to hide their early signs of intoxication as they sway to the muffled beats leaking through the walls of the club and onto the streets outside. Eunha, seemingly sensing your discomfort, stays by your side.

“They can be a handful at times, but they’re nice,” Eunha says.

“Eh… What about her?” You discreetly gesture towards one of her friends that’s been sending you death threats through a not-so-subtle glare the second you arrived.

“Oh, that’s SinB. She’s, uh… She’s friendly once you get to know her.” Eunha gives you a small yet reassuring grin, which honestly does little to comfort you. You appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

The line creeps ever closer towards the entrance of the club, signified by the trashy music growing louder with each step. Just a peek through the door and you’re already grimacing at the thought of having to spend a single second in this wretched haven of hedonism.

“Which one is Yuju?” you ask, trying to get your mind off of the impending dread building in your stomach.

“She’s running a little late, stuck in traffic.” Eunha smirks at you, waggling her eyebrows. “You excited to meet her in person?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I guess?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Word of advice, try not to be too much of an emotionless robot in front of her.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the bass blasting from the speakers drowns out anything you try to say. Not like you can even think of a proper argument with how overwhelming everything is.

As you follow Eunha deeper into the club, you instantly regret not making up some lame excuse at the last minute and bolting. You can barely take two steps without bumping into anyone, a task made more difficult with the lack of proper lighting and the disorienting stench of some unknown substance floating around. The smell emanating from the hot dog machine at work is more favorable to this.

“Here you go, girl!” one of Eunha’s friends exclaims, gesturing towards a seating area sectioned off with velvet rope. On the table sits a light up centerpiece reading “Happy Birthday, Eunha!” surrounded by an abundance of expensive-looking alcohol. Her friend must be loaded because there’s no way Eunha could afford any of this with a convenience store salary. Consequently, your present for her pales in comparison to this kind of extravagance.

“Oh my god!” Eunha squeals, hopping with excitement, “Thank you so much, this is insane!”

The way her face lights up with happiness almost makes coming here worth it. So, you do your best to endure, downing shot after shot with everyone else while trashy music bleeds into your brain. Eunha steals glances at you from the far end of the booth, offering an apologetic look as her rowdier friends bombard you with incoherent words and shot glasses overflowing with poison. You meet each look with a smile and a simple wave, yet it’s becoming an increasingly herculean task to not let the lingering burn of alcohol in your throat manifest itself onto your visage.

A woman with long wavy hair approaches Eunha, and the two pull each other into a giddy embrace, exchanging words and excited giggles. You can’t quite make out their conversation—not like you’re trying to eavesdrop—but with the way Eunha is pointing at you and the vaguely familiar silhouette of the other woman, you’d have to guess that she’s probably Yuju.

“Hello!” she hollers, her voice straining against the distorted thump of the speakers. “Are you Eunha’s friend?”

“Yeah.”

Yuju extends her hand towards you, sporting a polite grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

In any other scenario, maybe you could’ve had a decent conversation with her. Hell, maybe you could’ve even fallen in love with her. You’re not blind; she’s certainly an attractive woman. But in a place like this, where you’re constantly fighting the urge to up and leave, it’s impossible to try and form any kind of connection. And you genuinely try. More for Eunha’s sake than yours, but the attempt is still there.

Halfway through the barely discernible wall of words, you feel a pressure on your thigh. It creeps upwards slowly, inch by inch, stopping just shy of your crotch. Yuju bites her lip at you, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with seduction, leaning in until you can feel the heat from her breath against your ear. Thus far, you’ve been guessing her words and trying to formulate a response based on what you could lip read. But what she whispers into your ear rings true, like the whole world went silent just so you could hear her.

“Let’s cut the bullshit already and get to the fun part. I haven’t had dick in so long, I just need to feel you inside me.”

The rush of adrenaline sparked from her words alone leaves you reeling as you feel yourself being tugged around by this woman you just met, struggling to keep balance in the sea of faceless strangers. The sounds, the sights, the fucking everything about this place melts reality like goo seeping through your fingers, where the only constant is the fire in your windpipe and the sign for the women’s bathroom growing larger with each step.

This kind of spontaneity is probably good for someone like you. These days, you barely make an effort to make friends as it is, the thought of going out and actively trying to date didn’t even cross your mind until recently. It’s not like the thought of having sex with Yuju doesn’t excite you a little, you are human after all. With all the bleak memories you have from your last relationship, maybe it’s time that you let it go and let something good happen to you for once.

But is this good? You’re about to have sex with a woman you just met, in the bathroom of a club of all places. Exciting, sure, but good? You don’t even have a condom on your person, and judging by her current state, it doesn’t seem like Yuju has one either. All you have is your wallet and Eunha’s gift.

Eunha.

By some act of divine intervention or your own instincts, your eyes snap to the middle of the dance floor. Through the sea of drunken silhouettes, you see Eunha, frozen against the continuous wave of moving bodies. Her smile is gone. There’s a man there, slowly encroaching on her. Maybe they’re just talking. Her friends are around, surely they can protect her if she’s in any danger.

But they’re not there. Most are still at the booth, inhaling bottle after bottle without a second thought, while one pulls you towards the bathroom, too horny to consider the consequences of her own actions.

The man touches Eunha’s shoulder. She tries to swat him away, but he’s bigger than her. Much bigger. Like a vicious wolf cornering a poor rabbit.

Without another moment of hesitation, you break free from Yuju’s grasp, shoving your way through the crowd with complete disregard for everyone except Eunha. Most people will think you’re the biggest idiot for throwing away an opportunity with a woman like Yuju, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you choose meaningless sex over the safety of your only friend.

You grab the man’s wrist, pulling Eunha behind you. “Get away from her,” you growl.

“Fuck off.” He tries to shove you aside, but you stand firm, refusing to budge in the slightest. You’re probably—no, definitely—a fool for trying to stand up to a guy built like a fridge. The scrawny guy at the store is nothing compared to this giant meathead. But as you feel Eunha cling onto the back of your jacket, her hands trembling in fear, you know that you’ll stand before the wolf time and time again to protect the poor rabbit.

Before things can get even more heated, you grab Eunha and make a dash towards the exit, knocking over a few people in the process. Even so, you don’t stop running until the cool air of the outside bites at your cheeks.

“Shit,” you pant, leaning against the wall of a neighboring building to catch your breath. “Are you ok—”

Eunha wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into your chest. Every breath she takes quivers like the last leaf on a dying tree, desecrated by a furious storm. All you can do is hold her, trying to provide some ounce of comfort as she sobs in your arms.

The world is cruel to you, a fact you came to terms with long ago. It’s stolen many of the things you held dear, leaving you to cling to the pieces left behind and try to rebuild your life out of nothing. You built walls, avoided people entirely, did everything you could do so you never have to feel that kind of pain again. And after all that, you’re left to simply exist. Survive. Not ‘live’ in the way people somehow wake up with the sun and breathe in the dawn of a new day with hope in their hearts. Just be.

And then Eunha came into your life, walking into the doors of the convenience store with her bubbly smile and boundless energy. All the time you’ve worked alongside her, listening to her greet every single customer with such enthusiasm, enduring her brutally honest criticisms of your personality, succumbing to her demands every time she flashes those damn eyes at you, she’s made you look at life differently, whether you liked it or not. She didn’t even have to chip away at your walls at all—you tore them down yourself and built a grand entrance into your soul just for her. Because you wanted to. Because you like the way she smiles like nothing bad could ever happen, you like how she manages to find the good in everything and everyone, and you like that she still wants to talk to you despite your brick wall of a personality.

To see her like this, breaking down in your arms, on her birthday of all days, is nothing short of soul crushing.

“Thank you for that,” Eunha murmurs, her voice tiny and fragile. “Um, can we go?”

“Sure,” you reply in a calming tone. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.”

The two of you wander the streets in silence, nothing but the muffled hum of faraway chatter and the occasional car passing by to keep you company. She stays deathly quiet, a state you’ve never seen her in. With everything that just happened, you don’t blame her, but you can’t help but feel chills at her solemn expression. It’s like the sun’s gone dark, leaving the whole world in a forever winter.

You pass by a 7/11, not thinking much of it, but Eunha stops underneath its glowing sign. “...You wanna drink?” she asks, giving you a small yet hopeful smile.

Alcohol is probably the last thing either of you need at the moment, yet you find yourself nodding anyway. It’s hard saying no to that face.

______________________________________________________________

Time ticks by at a pace more glacial than the frigid winds buffeting you as Eunha chugs down her second can of cheap beer, crumpling it in her hands as if to release all her pent up emotions inside. On a normal day, you would’ve found it a little funny, maybe even cute, to think that the living embodiment of a summer day has inner turmoil that she can only externalize through the crushing of an aluminum can. But on tonight of all nights, the shrill crunch becomes a harsh reminder that life’s cruelty shows no mercy.

“Are you okay?” you utter, unable to move your gaze from the ground. Of course it’s a stupid question—who would be okay after almost getting assaulted?—but, it’s a start, if anything.

“Um… I don’t know.” Her despondent voice is punctuated by the metallic crash of aluminum against concrete. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“I have time.”

Eunha inhales deeply, letting the chilling winds of the night fill her lungs, before breathing it back out into the elements. “No. I’m not okay, and I haven’t been for a long time. I know, it sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s just…” she sighs, “It’s just how I feel.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic at all,” you reassure her, earning an appreciative grin in response.

“Um… God, I really don’t know where to start with this,” she says, her face falling into her hands. “School has been kicking my ass lately, which isn’t that big of an issue in the shitstorm that is my life, but it’s there. Last week, one of my professors chewed me out for accidentally submitting the wrong file for an assignment, so I spent the entire day just crying in bed.” A small laugh leaves her nose at the fact, void of any humor.

“And then my friends. They’re great and I love them with all my heart, but they can be such a handful.” With each word, she sinks deeper and deeper into herself as the burden she’s been silently carrying threatens to end her. “Sowon—the tall one that paid for the table—she has a reputation for sleeping around campus, which is fine, I’m not gonna tell her what she can and can’t do with her own body. But her life is filled with so much drama, and I end up having to play therapist for her, and it just gets so exhausting.”

You nod in understanding, keeping silent as she spills out her grievances. It’s not a pleasant sight, but pain rarely is. This image that she’s built up for herself as this happy-go-lucky fairy of a person, the image that you’ve consumed without question because doing otherwise would be like the sky falling around you, tears itself down to reveal the ugly truth underneath: That she’s human. And all humans suffer, even the ones that you wish didn’t.

“You remember the night I came into work with my hair dyed?” she asks after a long pause, her gaze fixated on the crumpled can below. “I broke up with my boyfriend that morning. I just… couldn’t handle all the hurt and neglect anymore, so I left.”

The revelation comes as a shock to you, even if all the signs were there in hindsight. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer, nervously fidgeting with the tiny box in your pocket.

“Y’know, he always hated when I dyed my hair. Said I looked like a slut whenever I did it.” The word sounds so crass against her gentle voice, like a grisly wound on unblemished skin. You feel an unfamiliar anger boiling inside of you at the notion that someone would even think to hurt her.

“And with how things turned out tonight, maybe he was right—”

“Hey,” you lightly interject. “I don’t think you look like… that at all.”

Her dejection cracks a little, giving way to a small smile accompanied by the faint hum of a chuckle. “Thanks. Maybe if that other guy thought the same as you, I wouldn’t feel like this.”

With a deep breath, you retrieve the small box from your pocket and hand it to her. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Eunha takes the box from your hand, her brow raised in curiosity.

“Your birthday present. It’s not much, but… yeah. It’s not much.”

Tentatively, she opens it up, revealing a necklace with a rabbit pendant hanging from it. Her face lights up, and for a moment, you forget that she was ever sad in the first place. A newfound sense of determination wells within you, and something that you’ve kept hidden deep inside finally comes to light: you would do anything to protect that smile.

“This is so cute, I love it!” she remarks, fiddling with the chain as she tries and fails to put it on. “Uh, a little help?”

“Sure.” You take the necklace from her, and as she pulls up her hair to reveal the delicate skin of her neck, your hands begin to tremor nervously, making it nearly impossible to secure the necklace.

“Is everything alright back there?” she teases. “I can feel you shaking.”

“Y-yeah, no, it’s fine.” The stutter in your voice dashes any attempts at trying to sound natural. It’s a simple act, putting a necklace around your friend, but something about it feels so intimate, like the first hint of warmth after a long and arduous storm. Once you finally secure the clasp in place, a breath you didn’t know you were holding empties from your lungs.

“Thanks,” she says, admiring the rabbit pendant. “Thanks for everything, really.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“But you did something,” she reasons, her voice lilting with an air of melancholy, “You did a lot more than anyone else ever did for me.”

Eunha’s eyes wander upwards to the stars, the same ones you’ve spent nearly every night under, listening to her talk about everything and nothing all at once. Tiny blips of light a billion miles away, the only witnesses to your midnight conversations about the mundanities of life. To them, your little exchange of words seems small and meaningless, but to you, these talks with her mean everything.

“I’ll make sure to pay you back one day,” Eunha utters.

There’s no need. Your existence is more than enough.

______________________________________________________________

In a past life, you used to curse how consistently time seems to move without regard for anything else. After one of the worst nights of your life, how dare the sun have the audacity to rise up in the morning like your whole world hasn’t just collapsed? The lights peaking through your blinds felt like a big “fuck you” from the world. Everyone struggles, get over yourself, you lazy prick. Before you realized it, the negativity took up every corner of your mind, constant noise rattling around your head every second of your existence, bleeding into the nights that seemed endless as you could do nothing but stare at the ceiling.

But nowadays, those thoughts seem so long ago, like a vague memory. Maybe it hasn’t gotten easier to sleep, but it’s quieter now. Peaceful, even. It barely even occurred to you how much time has passed since then until a certain coworker of yours decides to remind you.

“Happy birthday!” Eunha pops up from behind the counter, donning a dingy party hat and holding a cupcake with a single lit candle embedded in it.

“H-huh? W-what—”

“Make a wish!” She pushes the cupcake in your face, a potential fire hazard if your hair was just an inch longer. Confused by the sudden onslaught, all you can do is stand there like an idiot, eyes tracing over the silly hat adorning her rosy head. It’s cute though.

“It’s your birthday, right?” Eunha pouts, reading your confused expression. “Or did the calendar lie to me?”

You pause for a moment, running the numbers in your head as you try to remember how much time has passed. “Right,” you utter, not quite meeting her eyes. “Yeah, it’s my birthday.” Without another word, you grab a broom and begin sweeping as a couple approaches the store, hoping their impending presence will get your mind off the topic. With how life has been going these past few years, it’s getting harder and harder to find a reason to celebrate.

Was.

The gentle chime of the entrance rings throughout the store, yet Eunha’s cheerful greeting that usually follows is hauntingly absent, you nearly greet the customers yourself just to fill the unusual silence. Before you can check to see if she’s alright, you’re interrupted by a male voice.

“Hey, you know where the beers are?” the guy asks. You silently gesture towards the fridges, taking the opportunity to eye the couple. The girl seems generally unremarkable, not unlike the usual customer at this hour, but something about the guy feels oddly familiar, despite his face not matching anyone in your recent memory. Something about the way he drapes his arm carelessly over the girl like she’s an accessory rather than a person, or the way he doesn’t even bother to look through the tiny store for more than two seconds before asking for the answer just pisses you off.

“Thanks, pal,” he says, clapping your shoulder in a way that feels anything but friendly as he passes by. Out of all the expletives, middle fingers, and death threats that have been thrown your way by people far worse than this guy, none of them have managed to strike such an anger-inducing chord with you as that simple pat on your shoulder. But why?

You look over at the counter to check on Eunha, only to find a lone cupcake and a party hat peeking out from behind it. “Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed as you peer over the counter at her. All you receive in response is a panicked look and a harsh “Shhh!”.

“Hey pal, can you ring me— Eunha?” The two of them lock eyes in some weird staring contest, while you and his girlfriend or whoever she is are left completely out of the loop. You glance back and forth between them, trying to gain some semblance of understanding in their eyes for what feels like an eternity, until it finally clicks in your head.

The hint of familiarity despite never meeting him and the abundance of bad vibes he exudes all make sense — he’s Eunha’s ex-boyfriend.

You hastily scan his pack of beers and his box of condoms. “$20.55.”

“Why don’t you go wait outside for me, babe?” you hear him whisper to his new girl, unashamedly staring at her backside as she saunters out of the store. Eunha sighs, standing up from her hiding spot and leaving the party hat to dangle sadly in between her fingertips.

“So,” he continues, not even sparing you a single glance, “You’re still working in this shit hole?”

“Yup,” she replies, gaze glued to the floor. “Gotta pay rent somehow.”

He scoffs. “If you just come back to me—”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” You freeze at her sudden outburst, not used to this side of her. “Are you seriously asking me to come crawling back to you after everything you fucking did!?”

“Look, babe—”

“Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me, you asshole!” Her breath starts to get heavier as tears well up in her eyes and her fingers turn white around the dainty string of the party hat. “And don’t you have a new girlfriend anyway!? What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“What, you mean her?” His head flings back in a guttural laugh at the insinuation that he would find himself in a committed relationship with his “new girl”. Hell, if things weren’t so tense, you would be laughing at that idea too. “She’s just who I’m banging for tonight since you fucking left!”

“For fuck’s sake,” she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just pay for your shit and leave. Please.”

He scoffs. “Quit being a fucking bitch and—”

“If you leave now, I’ll let you have everything for free,” you interject, each breath heavy and quivering with anger. For the first time since this whole altercation, he acknowledges your presence and simply scoffs, eyeing the two of you back and forth. With a smirk, he grabs his things off the counter and backs away, chuckling to himself like there’s some kind of inside joke that neither you nor Eunha are a part of. As the door chime rings to signal his exit, you hear the huff of a harsh syllable underneath his breath that turns the next few moments into a vague blur.

“Slut.”

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly athletic—average at best, but still decent enough to not be picked last during childhood games. Yet, as you grab the cupcake from the counter and haphazardly chuck it through the air, you swear that Shohei Ohtani himself would’ve been impressed at the accuracy of your pitch as it arcs perfectly and splatters against the back of that asshole’s head. You freeze in disbelief of your own actions, barely registering the pink frosting-covered look of rage stomping towards you.

Eunha pulls you out of the doorway and quickly locks the door before pulling you into the break room, away from the view of the windows. Banging glass and muffled expletives are soon replaced by the monotonous whir of the fluorescents as she shuts the door behind her.

“Oh my god, are you insane?!” Eunha exclaims, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

“I-I, uh… I don’t know. Probably.” A breathy chuckle escapes your lips. And then another one. Soon, you’re keeling over the floor in laughter, replaying the impact of the cupcake over and over in your head.

A second chorus of laughter mixes with yours in a symphony of hysterics as Eunha joins you on the floor. Your head starts to ache and your stomach grows sore, but the first bout of genuine joy you feel after years of nothing but cold isolation overpowers any kind of pain.

Being here, in this moment with her, is the best birthday gift you’ve ever received.

______________________________________________________________

Even after the clock passes midnight and your birthday officially ends, Eunha still insists on doing something to celebrate. That sweet piece of payback against her ex was more than enough for you, but as always, it’s hard to say no when her eyes light up with so much excitement.

You wait in the solitude of your living room, with nothing but Yokai to pass the time. He purrs contently on your lap, being oddly well-behaved for once. Maybe he knows Eunha is coming and is in a better mood than usual. Are black cats telepathic?

As if on cue, he jumps off your lap and scurries towards the front door, a millisecond before a barrage of knocks and a muffled “Ayo!” sound off from the other side. It doesn’t take a genius to know who the owner of that voice is.

“Surprise!” Eunha exclaims, balancing a store-bought cake and a champagne bottle in her arms.

“I’m not sure if it counts as a surprise if I know that you’re coming,” you joke, taking the contents from her arms.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, birthday boy.” Yokai impatiently nuzzles his head against Eunha’s leg, practically begging for her attention. “Well, hello again, cutie! Did you miss me?”

He purrs in response to getting showered by Eunha’s affection. You place the cake on the dining table and peer curiously at the champagne bottle, only to find the words “Sparkling Apple Cider” written in fancy gold lettering.

“Apple Cider?” you question.

“Yeah,” Eunha responds. “Did you want actual champagne or…?”

“No no, this is great.” You flash her a reassuring grin, which she returns in kind, punctuated by the cute swell of her cheeks.

“Phew, I’m glad. I thought I read you wrong for a second.” She plops comfortably onto your couch like she’s been to your apartment a thousand times before, Yokai swiftly taking his place onto her lap. “So, what do you usually do for your birthday?”

“Nothing, really,” you sheepishly admit. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have remembered it was today.”

“Whaaat? That’s no fun.”

“Yeah, well…”

You trail off as the ghosts of your past come back to haunt you. Each year, the faces around the table seemed to become fewer and fewer until it was just you and the cat. Eventually, you just stopped bothering with it. It’s just another day, indiscernible from every other one. Sure, you could go on about why no one bothered to contact you, but It’s not like you’re completely blameless—why didn’t you reach out? Every night spent with your eyes forcibly pried open, you basically had all the time in the world to one, single message to anyone. And yet, you didn’t.

It’s your fault alone that things ended up this way.

You feel a soft pair of hands suddenly wrap around yours, forcibly pulling you out of the black hole in your mind that threatened to envelop you.

“Why don’t we make this one extra special then?” Without waiting for you to answer, Eunha pulls you towards the kitchen and pushes you down into a chair.

“What are you doing?” you ask, confused yet charmed by her usual antics.

“Just wait a sec,” she says, rummaging through your cupboards like a mouse looking for cheese. You watch in amused silence as she searches through every nook and cranny for… whatever it is that she needs. You can’t quite wrap your head around why she’s going through all of this effort, in the dead of night, for you of all people. You’re just her coworker in a dingy little convenience store.

Although, it’s hard not to feel insanely lucky when she turns to you with that impossibly bright smile that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“Okay, here we go!” Eunha exclaims, taking the plastic lid off of the cake and fiddling with a single match.

You tilt your head curiously. “Is that a—”

“I forgot to get candles and this is all that you have, alright?” she playfully snaps at you. Finally, once the match is lit, she places it gingerly in the center of the cake. “Make a wish, birthday boy!”

As you gaze into the small, singular flame before you, it dawns on you that you have no idea what to wish for. Money? A bigger house? The ability to have a good night’s sleep? Blowing out a silly little candle isn’t going to magically change your life overnight, no matter what the occasion is.

But as you look past the flame, you see Eunha gleaming back at you, waiting with bated breath for you to make that wish. The passion, the excitement, the hope swirling around in just her eyes alone sends a wave of warmth throughout your body that seeps deep into the fibers of your bones. A wish finally forms inside of your head.

You blow out the match, extinguishing the flame and letting your wish float into the air along with the smoke.

“Woohoo!” Eunha cheers. “What did you wish for?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you suddenly feel sheepish under her gaze. “I-I, uh—”

“Wait, don’t tell me!” she frantically interjects. “I forgot, if you say your wish out loud, it won’t come true!”

A chuckle brushes past your lips. If there’s even a tiny chance that what she said is true, then you’ll gladly take a vow of silence just to keep your wish close to your heart.

Eunha cuts two generous slices of cakes for the both of you while you pour the sparkling cider into mismatched mugs - the only drinkware you have that even comes remotely close to fitting the occasion. Your apartment becomes enveloped in a comfortable silence, save for Yokai’s content purring on the couch and an occasional “Mmm” from Eunha in-between mouthfuls.

As you peer to the side, you notice a small glob of frosting on the corner of her lips. “You have a little something here,” you chuckle, gesturing to the area. She tries to wipe it off, but somehow completely misses the mark.

“No, it’s still there,” you say, unable to hold back a smirk at her failed attempt. Without thinking, you reach out and gently wipe the frosting from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The soft warmth of her cheek sends a jolt through your body, and only then do you realize just how close you are. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. For a moment, time seems to stand still as you gaze into the deep obsidian of her irises, your thumb still lingering on her lips.

Eunha’s cheeks flush a rosy pink that mimics her hair, and you quickly retract your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Um, got it,” you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

“Thanks,” she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The air between you feels charged, as if closing the distance even a little bit would shock you. You steal a glance at her and find her doing the same, quickly turning away after a mere whisper of eye contact. For that split second, you notice her eyes shimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The silence stretches on, growing heavier with unspoken words.

Eunha breaks the tension first with a soft chuckle. “So, uh, how was your birthday? Sorry I couldn’t do much more than this.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I thought it was great, actually,” you admit, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“Yeah?” she says, beaming at you. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

She stands up and begins to gather her things. “I should probably head home now. It’s getting—well, I guess it’s already late.”

A pang of disappointment hits your chest. “Right.”

Each step feels like you’re wearing cinder blocks as you walk her to the front door. Yokai perks up from his spot at the couch, mimicking your own feelings of panic as Eunha nears the exit. Why are you acting like this? You’ll see her at work tomorrow. Despite your attempts at rationalizing, the growing urge to stop her is becoming harder and harder to ignore.

As she takes a step outside of your apartment, she turns to you. For a moment, she simply gazes into your eyes. You can’t quite read them—it’s hard when you’re too distracted by how unbelievably pretty they are—but it feels like she’s waiting. Waiting for you to say something, maybe? With the thumping of your heart growing louder in your ears, the ability to focus suddenly becomes an uphill battle.

“I, uh, I had fun tonight.”

You take a breath. “Y-yeah, me too.”

“I guess I’ll see you at work then?” Her voice lilts up, as if she’s asking a question. A loaded question, even. An answer sits on the tip of your tongue, desperately waiting to be heard by her ears. Just a couple words, and yet it feels like overlooking a cliff with no end in sight. A free fall into new, terrifying territory.

But, as you’ve learned time and time again, it’s hard saying no to that face.

“A-actually,” you begin, your voice almost getting caught in your throat, “it’s late and it might be unsafe tonight, so… I was wondering… do you want to stay the night?”

If you had more than just pure adrenaline pushing you forward, you could’ve probably used a better choice of words. Something smoother and less uncertain. Something more charming, as Eunha would put it. But all of these thoughts sink to the back of your mind when you’re suddenly attacked by the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Like muscle memory, your hands wrap around Eunha’s delicate waist, gently pushing her into the door until it shuts with an audible click.

All the second guessing, the worrying, the negativity, everything is completely thrown out the window as you sink into her lips. You let yourself get lost in her touch, pulling her close to you like she’s your matching puzzle piece. In the midst of needy touching and sharp breaths, a wave of calmness washes over you. Like all of this is meant to be.

“W-wait…” Eunha gently pushes you off of her, worry filling her expression.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Do you not want thi—”

“I do want this. I want you, more than you could ever imagine, but I just…” she sighs, her grip on your shoulders weakening slightly. “I really like working at the store and talking to you every night and feeling like my life isn’t a constant trainwreck. I need that consistency in my life. If we do this, no matter what happens tonight, I need you to promise me that nothing will change between us.”

She looks up at you with desperate, pleading eyes. You know, probably more than anyone, just how much pain she holds inside, invisible to the outside world. The two of you are alike in that way. The only difference is that she kept on trying to live despite her scars, while you stopped trying because of them.

“I’m not a perfect person by any means,” you start softly, gently caressing her cheek. “Before I met you, I felt like I was barely even human. I was just a body without a soul, wandering aimlessly. But then, I met you and everything changed.”

Eunha sinks her face into your hand, peering at you with those damn eyes. You’ve seen them light up like fireworks during her highest highs and pour like a perilous storm during her lowest lows, but you’ve never once seen them completely empty, void of any emotion. For once, you feel hope that things can get better, and she is the living, breathing reason why.

“Whenever I’m with you, nights don’t feel as cold and the stars seem to shine brighter than I thought was possible,” you continue. “Breathing becomes easier and I laugh harder than I ever have before. Life doesn’t just become bearable—it becomes enjoyable. And that’s all because of you.”

As your words linger in the gap between lips, you feel the haze that clouded your mind for so long finally lift, making way for light to shine through. A pure, warming light with pink hair and porcelain skin and cheeks like puffed up marshmallows.

“I take back everything I said before,” Eunha says with a smirk. “That was the most charming thing I’ve ever heard.”

Before you even have time to roll your eyes, she’s kissing you again with a newfound passion. You’re quick to follow her lead, running your hands over the curves she’s been hiding underneath her work uniform and taking mental notes of the spots that produce a cute moan. Each sensation feels like a spark of lightning being shot through your veins, driving your every movement. You want—no, need to please this woman, show her exactly just how much she means to you.

With all the adrenaline in your system, you end up pinning Eunha against the front door with an audible thud. “Someone’s eager to get things going,” she teases, short-breathed and rosy-cheeked.

“How can I not be when you’re so—”

“MRRAAOOOUWWWW!!!” Yokai cries out, his yellow eyes full of judgement as he looks at your crude display of affection from the couch. Attention whore.

Eunha chuckles. “Maybe we should—”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

You take her hand and practically drag her to the privacy of your bedroom, her excited giggles trailing behind you. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Eunha is already laying on your bed, resting comfortably as if it were her own.

“Got room for one more?” you quip.

“If it’s you, definitely.”

With an easy smile, you make your way towards her, fingers grazing up her thighs to her toned stomach and around the sensuous curve of her bosom before resting right next to her head. The moonlight peaking through the window illuminates her eyes, allowing you to see the passion and the neediness aimed directly at you.

“You’re so beautif—mmf!“

Eunha suddenly claps her hand over your mouth. “Listen, you’re very cute, but I desperately need you to take my clothes off. Now please.”

You waste no more time, diving into the crook of her neck and producing a yelp from her throat as you pepper it with kisses. Excitedly, your hands slip under her shirt to massage her full breasts. You’d be lying if you said you never imagined it would be like to cup her breasts, but actually getting to feel them in your hand is a different sensation entirely. So soft yet so firm, and perfectly bouncy. By the noises she’s making, it’s safe to assume that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Eunha reaches down and strokes the outline of your cock through your jeans, her movements fueled by a primal lust. “Oh my god, I can already tell you’re so much bigger than my ex. Please, I need you inside me right fucking now,” she begs, already fidgeting with your belt.

You chuckle, not used to her lovely voice spewing out such heinous demands. Whatever the princess wants, she’ll get.

Loose clothing begins to decorate your room while a symphony of pleasurable cries and wrinkling fabric accompanies the scene. Moonlight casts shadows on your walls, depicting the beautiful act of debauchery taking place. This room, which only harbors memories of dreadfully sleepless nights, becomes a haven for you and Eunha to begin something new and wonderful.

“Can’t believe I almost let Yuju have all of this for herself,” she giggles, eyeing your length as it nears her dripping sweetness.

You lean down to briefly take her lips in yours, running your hands over her now unclothed body, bare in all its glory. “I don’t wanna think about any woman other than you right now,” you say in a low, growly tone.

“Mmm, good answer.” Eunha abruptly wraps her legs around your waist. “Now fuck me, birthday boy.”

Your cock drags against her folds, lubricating it with her juices. You feel her shiver underneath you as you lightly graze against her clit. She’s so beautiful. Completely exposed and vulnerable, all for you. With a single movement of your hips, you enter her honeypot, the two of you sharing a moan as the tip slides in.

“Shit,” you groan, drawing in a heavy breath, “We forgot a condom—”

“We work at a convenience store, we can just get a Plan B tomorrow!!” Eunha snaps before donning an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just mean—”

You interrupt her with a peck on the lips, smirking at her. “I know what you meant. I’ll shut up now.”

Pure instinct takes over as you begin to buck your hips into her, years of pent up energy and the desire to make her feel loved fueling each thrust. The crescendo of her voice every time your bodies meet is a tune like no other, and you do everything in your power just to hear that noise again and again and again and again. Sink your fingers into the meaty flesh of her thighs, lap at her perky tits, pin her arms over her head so her only choice is to succumb to the overwhelming sensation of lust.

“Perfect” doesn’t even begin to properly describe Eunha. From her bubblegum optimism that managed to melt your cold heart to the velvety tightness of her pussy as she takes you in so fucking well, there aren’t enough words in existence to explain just how much she means to you. So instead, you do your best to deliver the message through every movement. The fire in your pelvis as you fuck her heat, the soreness of your tongue as you worship every inch of her body, everything you do is testament into making sure she knows just how much you mean to her.

Love her in a way that her ex could never do.

Love her until all the pain and suffering she went through is forgotten.

Love her the way you’ve been unknowingly aching for her since the moment you laid eyes on her. Repay her for all that she’s done just by existing.

“K-keep going! Just like that!” she groans, the grip of her pussy tightening with each second. You do as she says, fucking her at the pace that she likes and hitting every spot that produces that oh-so-pretty noise from her lips. With how amazing she feels, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the building feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Eunha…”

She grabs your face, forcing you to look at hers. “Inside me, baby. Please. I need to feel you. I want to feel you.” She peers at you with those eyes, glimmering with the light of a full moon, and pleads for you to stay inside her. How silly. Why would you beg when I would give you the whole world at the drop of a hat?

In one final thrust, you climax in her arms, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through you. Eunha shoves her face into the crook of your neck, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she experiences her own orgasm. Months of working alongside her and getting to know her, culminating into a beautiful moment of release for the both of you—and this is only the beginning.

“H-holy… shit…” Eunha pants, tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. “That was… better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Are you saying you’ve imagined this before?” you tease.

“What, you think I’m gonna work with someone that’s as sweet and as awkwardly-cute as you and not occasionally think about fucking him?” she retorts with a smirk.

The both of you share a laugh in each other’s arms, bathed in the moonlight and sweat of passion. Before long, the exhaustion of today’s events gets to the both of you, and you feel your eyes grow heavier and heavier—a sensation you haven’t felt in a long time. A final kiss marks the beginning of many more nights to come. Nights where the shadows are still and the morning becomes a moment to look forward to.

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fairestwriting · 3 months ago

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Hello 👋 could I please request headcanons for leona's fem s/o defending him everytime one of the other characters start making backhanded comments to his face (if you've seen some of the vignettes you'll know what I mean) she doesn't reveal things like he's depressed or anything (tho he is) she just tells them it's shitty of them calling him lazy/selfish constantly without even knowing him personally

[Everyone treats leona like crap and I take personal offense to it >:( ]

You know i make fun of him on a regular basis. but theres a line thats gotta be drawn when it comes to leona bullying. cause damn this guy needs a real Break he cant even have issues in peace

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Before you got closer to him, there’s a fair chance the comments didn’t even stand out to you at all. It always felt a little unfair, yes, but not in a way that was particularly shocking, they were all just rude comments like any other. Back when you weren’t quite friends yet, and maybe even at the start of your friendship, you might have interjected with a simple ”hey, he’s not that bad” or "you don’t need to be rude about it”. It was just a gesture of basic politeness then, something the people around you seemed to lack.

But obviously, your perception of those interactions, and the way you see Leona’s situation itself, soon went through a rather radical change. Possibly even before you two started dating, or even before he “told you too much” — His own words, mumbled dismissively but bitterly, the day he came back after spending a weekend with his family and then proceeded to complain for a little longer than usual — As he warmed up to you, you started to notice things about him more. You started to see the spark of actual passion he has in his eyes during his club activities, the level of detail he gets into when analyzing things, the precise way he moved his chess pieces when you two played...

Above all, though, you started to notice how he often looked actually tired when he took part in any of the “slacking” he’s so infamous for. Learning the littlest bit more about his family life just worked as the final piece of the puzzle you’d been putting together without even noticing — And then, other people’s “rudeness” started to sound like something much more cruel. It didn’t help that he never seemed to react to it whenever he overheard others gossiping, or whenever you told him about the things you heard. “Why doesn’t he care?” The thought would echo in your mind for ages, trying to understand him through the tiny slivers of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

Now, as his girlfriend, you feel you just can’t let people say whatever they want, and you feel it more strongly than you ever have. ”Why don’t you mind your own business instead of talking about someone you don’t really know?” You snap back on instinct when one of your classmates, who was in Savanaclaw, comments on how lazy their dorm leader is. Their mouth closes instantly, regardless if you’ve made your relationship public or not — You realize that, on top of all the negative treatment Leona got, it was also extremely rare for others to defend him in any way at all. Enough that even a response that simple elicits shock from others.

”You know, it’s crazy to see you hanging out with Leona like that. I never thought I'd see anyone get so excited to spend time with him.” You hear some other day, while spending time in Savanaclaw’s common area, sat right next to Leona, and it just makes your blood boil. He’s just half-glaring at your particularly cocky acquaintance, sighing like he’s heard it a million times before, which you know he probably has. ”Hey, make sure you don’t get too influenced, we don’t need another person who just sleeps all day—”

”Yeah, you’re right. This type of person can be such a pain. I’m so glad I don’t know anyone who’s, you know, actually like that.” You say through grit teeth, just barely holding back aggression, and in the corner of your vision, the subtle flash of surprise in Leona’s face only encourages you to continue. ”Imagine if like, the Magift team had this sort of player in it… the club would be done for.”

They stare at you with wide eyes, having very much picked up on the aggression. The entire room is silent, you refuse to break eye contact, arms firmly crossed. ”Well, I mean…” The student stammers, but then, Leona himself speaks up for once. ”Did you not get her message? You need me to tell you to shut up instead?” He snaps, and they frantically shake their head, eyes fixed on the ground. You feel pride swelling in your chest, almost unable to hold back your smile.

”You know, Herbivore, if I needed a bodyguard I’d already have one.” He tells you later, in that same day. His tone has that snarky edge that feels like his default, but it’s much less pronounced than usual. You can even see a sort of softness in his eyes while he tries to play it cool. But needing and deserving are two different things, you think. As interactions like these repeat, with you defending him every time, you hope your message fully gets through to him, one day.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #lis writing

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fiastomatocheek · 7 days ago

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WHERE IT HURTS ME THE MOST

requested: yes | req: okay so my idea is reader and will are arguing and she's got a short temper and so will is kinda dialing in on insults related to that. and i guess to make this make sense, she had a past boyfriend that didn't treat her the best so her anger is a coping mechanism and a safety net for herself so she doesn't get hurt again but he's never seen her cry at all (about that situation or anything else) in the time they've been dating. and they're just going back and forth and back and forth and finally will says something like ‘well i get why your ex left because you're so stubborn and angry all the time. if you got your anger under control maybe some good things would happen to you’ and it just breaks her. like she stops fighting and when she goes to leave, will sees the tears welling in her eyes and he knows immediately that he fucked up. and she isolates herself and no one hears from her for days until finally will finds her at her apartment and he apologizes or something like that? please and thank you!

pair: will smith x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance.

warnings: past emotional abuse, toxic ex mentioned, yelling/argument, emotional breakdown, isolation, hurtful dialogue, emotional vulnerability, but ends with comfort and healing.

summary: you only asked will for one thing is that to check in after practice. it wasn’t a demand. just a simple gesture. but when a small concern turns into a spiraling argument, will crosses a line he never should’ve touched. and the moment he sees you cry for the first time, he realizes exactly how much damage he’s done.

fia’s note: never been in a toxic relationship before *praying this kind of love never finds me* so i’m not really sure what else to add, but i hope you enjoy it anywayyy. love you all lots!! my fav little 🍅s. alsooo i’d love if some of you could recommend me a few will smith angst fics to read, i’m in the mood to suffer a little. and i’m currently open to dad!luke hughes requests too!! he doesn’t get nearly enough dad delulu content on here and i desperately need it.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @kell9rs @nokiaholland

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion

“Hey,”

Will greeted casually, wiping his damp forehead with the edge of his shirt after tossing his gear bag down by the entryway.

“Hi,” you replied flatly.

He paused, glancing at you. “Everything… okay?”

“I don’t know. Did something happen after practice? You usually text.”

He looked up from unlacing his shoes.

“Yeah, sorry. Coach kept us longer than usual.”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“You still could’ve sent a text. Just… anything.”

He let out a breath, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Babe, I was busy. And you know I don’t take my phone on the ice.”

“I know,” you said quietly.

“But it’s not about the rink. It’s about after. You had it once practice ended. You just didn’t use it.”

“You’re mad?”

“I’m not mad,”

You said, eventhough the frustration in your tone told a different story.

“I just… it would’ve taken two seconds to text ‘I’m okay’. That’s all I needed.”

Will tossed his hoodie over the back of the chair.

“I was exhausted. I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it.”

“That’s the problem,” you snapped.

“You didn’t think. About me. About how I sit here wondering if something happened. If you got hurt. I know it sounds stupid, but it matters to me.”

“It’s not stupid,”

He said quickly, but the way he rubbed his temples suggested he didn’t quite mean it.

“It’s just… I don’t get why it’s always a big thing.”

“It’s not always a big thing,” you said, voice rising.

“You just make me feel like I’m asking for too much everytime I express something that bothers me.”

“Because you come at me like I’ve already failed.”

You stared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually listened when I talk.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “I do listen, I do. But you’re always so angry. Every conversation turns into a fight.”

And just like that, your anger cut deeper than he probably intended.

You turned away, trying to collect yourself.

But Will didn’t stop.

“It’s like you’re constantly looking for something to go wrong. I come home and you’re already on edge, like you’re bracing for a war that hasn’t even started.”

“Maybe because I am bracing,”

You snapped, spinning back toward him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to live in a state of defense. To have someone chip away at you every fucking day until the only thing left is armor.”

Will’s expression now is confused, overwhelmed, cornered.

“I’m not your ex, babe.”

“I never said you were. But sometimes you make me feel like I have to prepare for the worst. Like if I don’t say something now, I’ll end up swallowed by silence, again.”

He scoffed. “You can’t compare me to him everytime you’re upset.”

“I’m not! I’m just trying to explain why I am the way I am!”

“Then maybe work on changing it.”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, frustration bleeding through,

“You always expect me to cater to your triggers, your past, your baggage but when do you take responsibility for how you react?”

“I am taking responsibility,” you said.

“I’m telling you what I need so we don’t spiral like this. And you’re acting like I’m attacking you.”

Will stepped back, tone turning cold.

“You know what? Fine. Be angry. Be stubborn. That’s all you ever do anyway.”

You flinched.

And then he said it. The most hurtful things you’ve ever heard.

“Well, I get why your ex left. Because you’re so stubborn and angry all the time. If you got your anger under control, maybe some good things would happen to you.”

A breath. A heart broken.

All of the pain hit all at once, your body stilled, your face blanked. Your eyes went glassy, your fists clenched at your sides.

Will’s face dropped as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Wait no, I didn’t mean that, I—”

But it was too late.

Your voice cracked as you whispered,

“You were supposed to be different.”

You turned, grabbed your keys, and… left.

It’s had been three days eversince that day you left his apartment, eversince the you hadn’t answered a single message.

Not the texts. Not the voicemails. Not even the flowers he sent that sat untouched outside your apartment door.

Will was unraveling, everytime he closed his eyes, he saw the way your face shattered, how your mouth opened in shock, but no words came, your eyes filled with tears those tears you never let him see before you slipped out the door without another word.

Now, soaked from the rain, he used the spare key you gave him months ago, stepping into your apartment with a heart heavy enough to drown him this time.

You were there.

When you looked up and saw him, you didn’t move.

“Please…”

He said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“Just… let me say this.”

You looked so tired. So hollow.

Will knelt beside the couch, water dripping from his head onto the floor.

“I know… I know I said the one thing I should’ve never said. But I need you to understand… I wasn’t angry at you. I was scared. Scared I was failing you. And instead of being patient, I chose to be cruel.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, lips trembling.

“You’ve told me what your anger protects. I should’ve respected that. I should’ve seen that what I call ‘yelling’ is really just the sound of you trying not to drown.”

He hesitated, then reached for your hand so gentle, barely a brush.

“I love you. Not in the convenient way. Not just when things are easy. I love you when you’re quiet, soft. But I also love you when you’re loud and afraid. I love you when you’re angry because I know that anger comes from pain you never deserved.”

Will moved slowly, sitting beside you, careful not to push too far.

“You don’t have to protect yourself from me. Not with words. Not with walls. I’m not going anywhere. No matter how loud it gets. No matter how hard it feels. I’m yours. Even when it’s not easy.”

“You are not too much. You were just never given the right space to be everything you are.”

Silence.

“And I want to be that space.”

You looked at him, crumpled and broken, and you believed him, your body leaned forward. Your hand reached for his. And when you finally pulled him into you, burying your face in his shoulder, he held you like the home he promised to be.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,”

Will added, voice shaking a little now.

“I just need you. However you are. However you come.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

“I’m so sorry.”

#will smith #will smith imagine #will smith imagines #will smith x reader #will smith x you #will smith x y/n #will smith hockey #will smith fic #will smith fluff #will smith nhl #will smith angst #will smith hockey imagine #will smith hockey imagines #will smith hockey x you #will smith hockey x reader #will smith hockey angst #will smith hockey fluff

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4mrplumi · 4 months ago

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( crow choir. prologue ) ── fame is a fickle food. (m.s/next)

author's note at the end, pls read! (l/n) is not the direct insert.

even when she knows she’s got money stashed away, notes she’ll never use to replace the stale, gray oats she’s ploughing through with a flimsy plastic spoon, money she’ll use instead for a bottle of cheap ecstasy later instead, (l/n) doesn’t think she’s a bad sister.

even as she forces the spoon through the little mouth of her dear little (name), holding their head to keep them from babbling and gagging at the meal, (l/n) is not a bad sister.

scummy business doesn’t pay much in gotham. where pretty powder packets and cloudy liquid injections make thousands on the streets of a better city, it’s too average a dealing here. “home-made” a customer joked once, “gotham’s specialty.” (l/n) gave him a wry smile, in acknowledgment, not humor.

irritated, is an easy way to put it. (l/n) is frustrated. she used to dream of being a singer, a big, famous singer, with the voice of a nightingale piercing through the monotonous black and whites of the city with the deep blue of her solemn voice.

she had her story all planned out. young (l/n) knew only her mother and her rented apartment, forced to share commodities with a bastard child from her mother’s many affairs. but ah, she was so welcoming and kind-hearted! a true teresa, treating the kid like an angel sent just to her, performing her little do-re-mis to a giggling toddler, who pulled at her hair and pawed at her face in affection.

the vocals classes her mother weaseled her into, would have the teachers notice her wonderful voice, urging her and encouraging her to perform professionally. she’d make her way into a big gala, people would applaud, and she'd be as wealthy as the other filthy rich socialites in gotham. eventually, she’d help her mom, and her baby sibling leave the mean tenant’s apartment, and they’d eat soft bread and smooth butter, nothing like the grainy spreads on hard loafs they ate now.

but a city covered in gargoyle statuettes has no place for the dreams of a little grosbeak.

their mother didn’t come home one day. and she didn’t come home the next day either. when (l/n) opened the door on the third day in tears, hoping hysterically it was mummy dearest, she had to break down again at the sight of a stone-faced policeman.

she’s allowed to feel resentful, isn’t she? dreams punctured before they even had the chance to take flight, burdened with the duty of caring for a ditzy little kid at just eighteen.

none of her old teachers, none of the old shrinking men who regularly asked her to sing at their clubs, parties, helped. not even the slightest comfort came to the miserable, mourning girl. nobody wanted to have the stain of commissioning a helpless girl, what were they, taking advantage of a poor child’s misfortune?

in desperation, in poverty, she quit her part job as a cashier, having no time for it and turned to a less pleasant way of work. scouring through the dirty, shit-smelling allies of gotham to sell lame drugs and smoke to worse-off people.

and this… ungrateful brat won’t even eat the little food she works so hard to provide? she’s lived off her own products, hoping to dull the ache of hunger with weak alcohol, and this bitch refuses to eat?

she hates them enough to want to fling them out the window.

but… she loves them too dearly to ever try. and so, another one of gotham’s teenage misfortunes goes to bed with a heavy heart, after coaxing her little baby (name)’s big doe eyes to sleep.

the police station smells like disinfectant and sounds like tv static, but maybe it’s just your dazed head making up the buzzing.

the officers tried, as gently as they could, to get you to talk, explain what happened. but they mistook your silence as numb-tongue from the shock of her death, leaving you to be with yourself for a while, calm down.

your eyes are eerily fixated on the colourful cartoon playing on a small tv they're propped you up in front of, the characters' bright voices dissolving into the ringing in your ears. you watch them harp about kindness and togetherness distastefully, lamenting their shrill songs and wishing your big sister would sing to you instead.

you feel guilty. you took her voice away. your existence ruined the hopes she had for her future, her golden days were rusted by you. it should’ve been you instead. you, instead of her.

it’s unbecoming of a child your age to chew on their nails, your sister had scolded once, scowling. but she’s not here anymore, so you occupy yourself with peeling skin off your fingers, no thought to how much it'll ache later.

your clothes feel thin, and your body’s so hot with sickness you shiver. a lady officer had wrapped a big brown coat around you, but it lays discarded at your side. you deserve no comfort.

and you repeat this day. over and over and over in your head for the next four years, and more to come. you repeat the memory of the day your little apartment world became far too big for you to handle, the memory of your faults, the memory of your sister.

you are a sickly child. you are a sick child. you deserve no comfort.

suffocation is too harsh a word to use for the luxury you're so suddenly plunged into, but it is claustrophobic and horrifyingly unfamiliar. there are far too many people in the house, stalking the too-wide corridors, under too-tall ceilings, your nerves shake whenever you walk past them.

your head spins from all the lights and paintings, carved furniture and embroidered carpets. they've dropped a little mole into a vast jungle of glass chandeliers and decorative flowers, with no hand to hold their pathetic paws and guide them around and out.

your body stays tense, strung like a bow, even as the butler weaves you with the utmost care through what seems like infinite corridors, to a pretty little door with a shining handle. you furrow your brows, to rest the contempt you hold at the polished wood, resenting the gleam of it, that which resembled his set hair and his loathsome suit.

the loathsome suit you saw four... no, twelve years too late, and vow to see as sparingly as possible.

you'd take back the vile gray oats and 'tough love' of your sister over these new inexplicable pastries and cold businessmen any day.

you miss her. you deserve no comfort.

INTERACTIONS AND REBLOGS VV APPRECIATED !! i hope this is an adequate introduction the the series, and i will expand on this significantly. future updates are fueled by reader interactions, so if you do end up liking this, please do let me know your thoughts by commenting or re-blogging.

regarding the genre, style and tropes: reader insert is gender neutral. while noir is more of a style, more present in movies than prose, i do want to attempt at at least a similar sense in the form of a writing genre. as for the "yandere" tags, i'm unsure how else to put it. i'm aware there are more niche terms that would better describe the characterisations that'll be present, but they're neither popular nor easy (for me) to describe. that aside, the traits that'll (eventually) be displayed will showcase yan-tendencies, so i hope you don't feel like i'm trying to bait anyone with tags.

thank you for reading!!

#saria's 💤 writing #saria 💤 says #'25 run: crow choir #batfam x reader #dc x reader #neglected reader

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caxasy · 1 month ago

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caleb x male reader, based off of the card stage oberver bc i played it and ltr smirked the entire time bc mc is soooo me

-> implied childhood friends (atp assume every caleb x male reader is a childhood friends trope tbh), mc's name is lily, caleb is #gayaf <3

“oh my god, no way!” lily’s voice exclaimed, knelt over caleb’s belongings. “you won’t believe what i just found!”

“hm? snooping doesn’t get you anywhere, lily,” you chide her, not entirely interested as you help put away his belongings.

”snooping does in this case!” she bounds over to you with a smile on her face, “look what i found!”

“a piece of paper?” your eyes watch her expectantly, “and that is significant because…”

“because it’s not just a piece of paper! it’s a love letter, without a doubt!” she points at it, “look it’s got his favorite stickers plastered all around it!” she points to the little figures. an airplane, apples, oranges, and even some cute animal stickers.

“did you open it?” you ask, not out of curiosity, but more so in a warning way.

she shakes her head, “of course i wouldn’t actually read a love letter to caleb-oppa, that’s so weird! but, look at the evidence, it’s all pointing towards a love letter! it was even stuffed in his planner, the one written with all his assignments, which means he kept it there because it was something of utmost importance to him! what else would it be besides a love letter!” her rambling continued on as she followed you around his room. it seems she had given up cleaning and organizing in favor of trying to convince that what she had found was truly groundbreaking.

“hm, maybe it’s all those coupons he kept from you that you wrote when you two were kids,” you muse, not putting it past caleb to keep things like that. no, he definitely did, “it probably is, honestly. you know how he is and how he loves holding you to your word like that,”

she pouts, shaking her head, “he’s already used up all the ones i’ve given him…i think, or at least, that’s what it feels like,” she murmurs the last part of the sentence in a dejected tone, looking tired at the memory, “i swear he’s used countless coupons in the past couple months, just for stupid stuff too!”

“you’re the one that wrote them,” you comment, ruffling her hair to see her expression screw up in even more annoyance. “and if it isn’t coupons, then i have no clue what it is…or why we should even care,” you try subtly reminding her that caleb’s love life, if it was even that, isn’t necessarily your guys’ business.

“you don’t care? what if someone steals caleb from us? he’s already graduating — learning that he’s getting into a committed relationship just means less time for us!” she reasons and you almost chuckle at her obviously, very serious concerns.

“who’s stealing who exactly?”

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

lily nearly squeaked before she hurriedly shuffledso that your taller figure was blocking her body from caleb’s view, hiding what she was doing, quite literally, behind your back.

“nothing, lily just has a raging suspicion-”

the girl had immediately covered your mouth with her hand, standing on her tippy toes to do so. you tilted your head in confusion, widening your eyes at her as if silently saying “what gives?” but she just shushed you with her finger to her lips.

“nothing, i was just saying…how messy your room is! and how you have so much stuff! like, how are you even going to fit this all in one suitcase?” she starts rambling, a habit that she has when she lies, but caleb doesn’t press on further. instead, he opts to wave his hand at her dismissively.

“i can sort through the most of it by myself,” he says in a matter-a-fact tone.

“oh, so you just invited us here days earlier from your actual graduation to show off then?” you tease, looking around at his room, “i mean, look at all the photos on your desk of the friends you’ve made, its cute how much of a social butterfly you are, caleb,”

he looks at the stray photostrips and pictures he has on his desk, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, “well, those photobooths always give extras, so i can’t just not take them,”

”it’s good to see you were well acquainted, they all look so friendly,” you say, a smile on your face as your eyes trace over the photographs.

your words seem to snap lily out of her stupor as she rushes forward and begins observing the photo, scanning all of the faces in the pictures.

“wait, tell us about all of them! i want to know more!” her enthusiasm seems off-putting to both you and caleb, but the latter doesn’t say anything and decides to appease her. he lists off of a lot of names, noting their relationship to him with simple words like “classmate” or “study-buddy”.

“why didn’t you have any girl friends? girl, space, friends?” now this made caleb falter slightly, confusion written across his face.

”uhm, i don’t know? they just weren’t in my social circle like that,” he says it casually, as if it’s really not all that important. but to lily, and her mission in proving that caleb has a secret, hidden girlfriend, it’s of all the importance.

“you’re such a liar! all the girls in highschool would woo over you, you mean to tell me they didn’t even try being your friend in college?” she scoffed at the idea, showing how unbelievably a bad liar caleb was being. but he was telling the truth.

“i’m not interested in girls anyway!” he exclaims in defense of himself, eyes flickering to you in realization of what he said before he corrected it, “er- i mean! getting to know girls like that! ugh, pip-squeak! you and your silly questions are really making my mind melt!” his gaze looked at your reaction for a split second, but he snapped his head away from your eyes when they made eye contact with his. the reaction made you quirk your brow up in intrigue.

meanwhile, lily just giggles behind her hand, enjoying the way her interrogation is playing out, “hm, your reaction says otherwise! i think maybe you have a secret you’re not telling me and oppa,” hearing yourself be dragged into the conversation, you lazily look over at the two. “i’ll get it out of you eventually, dummy caleb!”

“why do you even care that much? weirdo…” caleb murmurs, walking away from her and to get some of his things off of his bed, which was scattered with a bunch of belongings.

he reaches for his planner, spraying the pages open in fluidity. he repeated it a couple of more times before dropping it onto the bed and looking through the other stuff in front of him.

if you hadn’t known him better, you would think he was just looking for something underneath all of his junk. but you and lily could see it; the hint of franticness and panic in his movements. without even seeing his face, he seemed to be more frenzied than a couple seconds earlier.

“uhm, are you okay, caleb?” you ask, walking over and seeing his face, eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“i’m, uh, fine. just looking for something,” he explains in a rush, “you guys haven’t touch the things on my bed, yet, right?”

you shake your head, speaking for yourself before looking over at lily, who you know for a fact did. that’s where she got that “love letter” from anyway, that planner that caleb just flipped through about 10 times.

“nope, not yet,” you deadpan at her lie, but caleb seems to believe her. he runs his hand through his hair before shaking his head.

“nevermind, i’ll look for it later,” he turns around to face you properly, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling you with him, “let’s head out for some fresh air, i have to do some shopping for dinner,”

you and lily share a look of confusion, wondering what got caleb all jumpy. hurriedly, you grab onto her wrist as well, caleb now dragging the two of you out of his dorm room and onto the streets of skyhaven.

when you arrive at the supermarket, lily glues herself to your side to continue gossipping about the supposed love letter she found, “see? he wouldn’t act that way unless it was a love letter! i kind of want to read it now,” there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, but you flick her forehead in disapproval.

”why don’t you just ask him, lily?”

“but there’s no fun in that! i want to hear him say it,” she whines, punching your shoulder, right before holding your arm close to her body. the two of you walk in sync with each other, as she pressed her cheek to your sleeve. “it’s interesting to think about caleb getting a girlfriend, isn’t it?”

your face makes an expression she can’t read, “not really, he’s charming and like you said before, he’d always get attention in highschool,”

“yeah, but highschool isn’t even serious,” she waves her hand, eyes rolling, “didn’t people confess to you all the time too? and look where you’re at now! still single!” she sticks her tongue out at you, teasing you.

“haha,” your mocking laughter makes her giggles even louder, “don’t speak as if you know everything either, lily, you graduated from highschool, like, last year,”

“i know enough,” she says with finality, “i know that caleb was super worried about that letter and he was super flustered explaining his girl-friend situation earlier. he’s probably thinking of her right now,” she sighs, dreamily almost, as if she’s envisioning caleb and his secret relationship. “one of you needed a girlfriend sooner or later, i’m kind of glad it’s caleb! means that he can stop hogging you all to himself, finally some lily and [name] time together!”

“nobody hogs anybody,” you try to reason, but she just rolls her eyes and pouts, “plus, i’d be happy for him too, but you’re beyond excited,” you laugh, finding her investigation equally odd and endearing.

“what are you two talking about over there? stop making me look like a guy that’s here all by myself,” caleb halts in his step, waiting for you two to catch up before he grabs your hand, “c’mon, hyung, i need help picking what meat we should have for dinner tonight,”

“hey! i was just talking to him!” lily cries out, following after you as caleb tugs you away.

“yeah, and you’ve been talking to him for the entire day — my turn, pip-squeak,” he says, tone light and not that serious, but his expression doesn’t have a hint of a joke being told. you’d call it a warning glare, but it wasn’t that hostile…right?

“ugh, just like i said, hogging,” lily comments to herself, busying herself in looking at the snack and chip section. “i’ll be waiting here!”

”that wasn’t very kind, caleb,” you chide, once again playing peace maker between the two. he just shakes his head, grip on your wrist only tightening.

“you guys are only here for a couple of days before i have to be sent off to that program, even farther away from home than skyhaven. you two spent the entire day yesterday and today together. meanwhile, i haven’t even been able to spend more than 10 minutes with you — alone,” caleb’s ramblings make you affectionately ruffle his hair, a sad smile on your face.

“okay, well, we’re here together now so it’s okay. don’t be so mean to lily next time, though,”

he rolls his eyes at the mention to mind his manners again, “she knows what she’s doing and she always gets away with it because you let her!”

“careful how you speak, one would think you dislike her — which we both know is the opposite. you adore lily,” you say as if reminding him, but he just groans.

“only don’t like her when she takes away my time from you,” he says, leaning more into your figure. the height difference between you two wasn’t much, the shoes you were wearing making you only a couple of centimeters taller than him. but when he was hunched over, into your frame, it made him look shorter and smaller than he actually was.

“oh, you big baby,” you run your hand through his dark hair, tugging at the roots at the base of his neck, “c’mon, tell me what you want to eat and i’ll choose the best ones,” you coax him, making him unbury his head from your neck and look at the selection.

“pork belly,” he says simply, before turning his head back into your skin, breathing you in.

“oooh, you have a grill in your dorm? we can have samgyeopsal,” it was almost mouth watering to think about.

“hm, we will have to use the shared kitchen but no one would mind, so it’s fine,” he leans more of his weight on you, making you chuckle slightly at his clingy behavior, “it sounds yummy. promise to grill my meat for me?” he asks gently, making you smile at his childish request.

“of course i will. should we leave lily to fend for herself then?”

he laughs as if the joke you told was too funny, but that’s only because he knows that lily would never grill her own meat, relying on one of you two to do it for her, “yeah, just wait to see how that’ll play out,”

“probably another fight between the two of you,”

“probably,” caleb hums, watching you with a dreamy smile on his face.

he’s been trying to keep his need to be near you to a minimum, but he’s feeling a bit too angsty to hold back. ever since you’ve arrive, as he told you earlier, he’s barely had any alone time with you. he thought that the three of you were going to sleep in his dorm room for the entire stay until his graduation day, but the academy wouldn’t let him.

so, an unfortunate solution was you and lily rooming together in a hotel that was a couple of blocks down. and since the school was being strict on curfews and staying out anywhere that wasn’t your own dorm, he wasn’t able to stay the nights with you guys. he assumes the academy is just paranoid of the big graduation ceremony being ruined, but it just annoyed him to no end.

he was only able to spend, what felt like, passing moments with you. so he was really trying to soak in the alone time you two would get now, even if it was in the supermarket.

it didn’t help that he couldn’t find one of his most prized possessions earlier. the thing that was hidden in his planner, that he strategically kept there so he always knew where it was. his fingers twitched in anxiety at the thought of it being currently missing. he swallowed harshly, reminding himself to turn his room upside down until he found it. he wouldn’t leave until it was back with him, safe.

the letter he thought was missing when it was currently sitting in lily’s purse that was slung over her shoulder.

only because it was a letter you had written for him to only open once he graduated from college. what was written inside, he had no idea. and he had been so patient — for years since you had handed it to him — to not open it and take a peak at it. but now that it was time for him to properly unravel and read it, it goes missing.

it was enough to make worry and anxiety creep into his mind every couple of seconds. he had to find that letter. it was the one thing that kept pushing him along on nights where the assignments became too much, when the exams were so stressful. it was his grounding anchor to keep going until he was finished. he thought of it as his ultimate reward coming from you.

he needed that letter.

... should i make a pt 2 ...

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wordbunch · 8 months ago

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their love language [the rings of power]

a/n: i had this little idea that I wanted to share w you all 🥰💛 i included the characters that i like best, so sorry if your fav isnt there. also I am a halbrand girlie so I wrote for that "version" of him. be so kind to comment/reblog your thoughts! ♡

Elrond ♡ quality time and physical touch and words of affirmation everything

Is he not just perfect? His kind heart cannot choose just one way to shower you with love, so it varies by the day. Elrond’s words are always carefully chosen to lift you up or comfort you, and the feeling of his lips or skin on yours is like a dream after a long day. Initially he was a bit more closed off, but you created a safe space together for both of you to be vulnerable and loving. Sadly, he can be quite occupied with various duties, so he cherishes any second he gets to spend in your presence. You have reached the point where you can communicate almost only through eye contact in public; his eyes are so shiny and expressive, and even the way he gazes at you tells you everything you need to know.

Galadriel ♡ acts of service and physical touch

There is nothing in this, or any other, world that she wouldn’t do for you! The downside of that is she can feel quite guilty if she feels as though she failed at something, but that is alright - you are there, always, to break the fall! She also very much receives love in this way so make sure you do lovely things for her as often as possible - our girl needs some soft wholesome love. Physical touch is something that keeps her grounded and reassures her you are really there and with her, it is not just an illusion or a dream. In private, Galadriel will cling to you like you’d just saved her from drowning. Reassurance is something she needs more than she will let on.

Halbrand ♡ words of manipulation affirmation and physical touch

He has a strange way of somehow knowing exactly what to say, almost at all times; the way he sweet talks you is unmatched, and he is no stranger to strings of compliments. Occasional banter is involved as well, of course, as he very much enjoys verbally “sparring” with you - it gets him going and gives a spark to his eyes. This leads to more physical expressions of desire, and you are basically the only person he enjoys being more tactile with. The way he shifts between being rough and passionate, and then gentle and adoring, keeps you on your toes constantly. However, two can play that game - has he at last met a worthy match?

Celebrimbor ♡ quality time and gift giving

This is one very busy elven lord and smith, but he will still try his best to never neglect you and your needs. Even if he is working, he loves to have you around, if you are free; and you enjoy watching him doing his thing. He calls you “his greatest inspiration” and swears you bring out the best of him, both professionally and personally. Although, he might occasionally get distracted when he feels your keen eyes on him. Naturally, since you inspire him to create, he loves to gift you items made personally for you, with utmost precision, skill and love. He also claims that no piece of jewelry, decor or weapon could ever match your beauty, but that is another challenge that motivates him even more. Sometimes, though, you have to drag him away from his work and just make him take it easy.

Isildur ♡ physical touch and being silly

This chaotic boy needs to have a hand(s) on you at all times, or the other way round. If you move away from him, there is a high chance he will look at you like a lost puppy. He might not yet be the greatest when it comes to verbalizing what you mean to him, but that’s not to say he can’t express it in a variety of ways - pulling you close in a crowded space, hugging you as if you might evaporate if he doesn’t hold onto you, kissing you breathless every chance he gets. However, playful banter with you makes him so happy as well, and it is his way of showing not only that you understand each other, but also that you can be perfectly comfortable in each other’s presence and laugh until tears stream down your face. Oftentimes those unguarded moments of silliness can become deep conversations which allow you to get to know each other even more intimately.

Arondir ♡ acts of service and words of affirmation

I mean, have you seen what this elf does for people he deeply cares for? Expect even more than that when he is in love with you! No task is too daunting when his beloved needs something, and you don’t even need to ask - he is superb at anticipating your needs. Sometimes you need to all but force him gently to relax and prioritize himself a bit more. Arondir is just a romantic soul like that. Also, in standard elvish fashion, he knows many poems and songs, and he is no stranger to coming up with his own just to express how he feels about you and how he sees you as the most precious, wonderful person. Initially he was a bit shy about that particularly, but experiencing your joy and enthusiasm, and the way you simply melt at his words, he knew he had to make it a regular occurrence to express his adoration. Please treasure him, he deserves the world.

🍁🍁🍁🍁

Tagging some trop besties @queenmeriadoc @lady-of-imladris @starladyy @fenharel-enaste @thesolarangel

@haladriel @nanawaffles @xwakemeupwhenseptemberendsx @elswing @coraleethroughthelookingglass

#from my pocketses #the rings of power #trop #rings of power #rop #trop fanfiction #rop fanfiction #elrond x reader #halbrand x reader #galadriel x reader #isildur x reader #celebrimbor x reader #arondir x reader #trop x reader #rop x reader #sauron x reader #rings of power x reader

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pigeonpeach · 1 year ago

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Jealous harbingers

Warning: yandere like tendencies or behaviors but not fully. Also ofc jealously and violence

Characters: Childe, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Arlecchino, Columbina, Sandrone

Childe is definitely the worst when it comes to jealousy. He’s number 11 so he’s eager to rise up the ranks, but he also refuses to bring you around the other harbingers because he worries they’d use you to get to him. And it would work. Hook line and sinker. Even if its innocent. The only harbinger he’d let you around is Puncinella and that’s because the guy is like family to him so of course he doesn’t mind. But if he must he has you close 24/7. He cuts off his colleagues if they get too comfortable and is quick to show displays of affection as of means to dissuade anyone. He also will leave enough hickies to make you look like a dalmation

Capitano is actually very calm when jealous. For the simple fact that scenario is incredibly unlikely to happen. No man is stupid enough to flirt with his partner, especially when you’re consistently guarded and accompanied. Not even Dottore would risk his wrath. But if some idiot does decide to try they won’t last long. Like at all. He will just grab them by their skull and toss them like they’re a lingering piece of garbage. He will not leave hickies on you however because with his strength that could actually do serious damage and he just refuses to risk hurting for that. He will likely have you wear his insignia in some way on your outfit if you go out without him.

Dottore is worse but hes good at covering for it. Like Captiano he is less likely to let you be alone in public without him or underling. But he knows you’re a beautiful sight so you would catch a eye or too. You won’t know that the underlings avoid your gaze because the last few that lingered their gaze quickly became test subjects of some horrible experiments. He is also not stupid enough to show you off to the other harbingers. You’re likely in your own wing of the lab building in a comfortable environment with attendees far from where any colleague of his is allowed to go. Although he will probably get jealous of his clones. The younger segments are more neutral towards you but the older ones are more likely to try and hold you or kiss your hand while he’s not in the room. It’s quite a mess for him.

Pantalone is not like Dottore in that he will show off his prized jewel in the appropriate settings. They wear custom matching outfits meant to clearly indicate they are his, jewelry paralleling his own, with a hand on the waist at all times as he mostly dominates conversations with strangers or colleagues. He is proud that you are his. He makes it well known. In public he is usually not so touchy minus holding you. But if he notices the lingering gazes and jealous stares he gets he won’t hesitate to stoke those agitation as a way of showing dominance. For instance he may pull you into s dance in which he keeps you pressed so close to him. He may pull you in for a quick kiss or a long one depending on how mischievous he is feeling.

Arlecchino

You’ll need not to deal with such things. More likely than not you’ll be busy in the orphanage. The rare occasion she allows you to accompany her is for special events she thinks you would enjoy. Often times your shared children are also brought as body guards to you. So you won’t be left alone. If any would be suitor comes by they’ll swiftly redirect them and engage if they get violent. But if a harbinger were to try their luck…. Arlecchino will not hold her tongue nor keep up appearances as she pulls you from the conversation and kindly reminds said harbinger to keep their hands to themselves. Once you’re home safe and alone however her teeth with be in your neck making enough hickies to make you into a leopard.

Sandrone

You are her most prized possession by far. Beautiful puppets and such. She is seldom seen in public or in events. Often sending underlings in her stead. It helps she’s also not nearly as social able or diplomatic. But she is a very jealous lover. She hates the idea of anyone else having eyes on you. She may subtly influence you to stay by her side more and more. Not even the most arrogant harbinger would dare to challenge her.

Columbina

She is actually least likely to be jealous. She’s a odd woman. But if she didn’t think you would stay loyal then she wouldn’t have let you out of the house today anyways! Your attire is tailored and customized to match hers. Sometimes you dawn a veil as she thinks if she sees your pretty face too much she’ll loose all restraint and just get carried away with you. Truly a strange woman. Not even the most reckless of harbingers would challenge her.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #suggestive themes #jealousy #pantalone x you #pantalone x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x you #childe x reader #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino content #sandrone x you #sandrone x reader #capitano x reader #capitano x you #columbina x reader #yandere tendencies

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wordsarelife · 11 months ago

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—anti-hero

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you hate that you’re so emotional about everything, but draco secretly loves you for it

warnings: none

“hey, guys” your voice was soft and rather quiet, but still loud enough to achieve immediate silence from your boyfriend and his friends.

draco and you had been dating for more than a year now, but you were still not sure his friends even liked you or just tolerated you at most.

“love” draco nodded, a pleased smile on his lips, as he made space for you between him and blaise.

the pairing of the two of you was quite unexpected to say the least. no one in the castle had expected draco malfoy, a slytherin through and through, to fall in love with the sweetest hufflepuff in his year, not even you. you were surprised yourself, when he had one day come to the greenhouse, asking you out for a butterbeer. the rest was history.

“how is you project going?” draco asked.

“well, it’s a bit harder than expected, i have to admit” you shrugged, but draco shook his head.

“nothing you wouldn’t be able to overcome”

“you’re flattering me”

“yeah” blaise exclaimed annoyed “please stop, your guys’ flirting gets on my nerves”

draco and you exchanged a look. “sorry” you quickly excused “i didn’t mean to annoy you”

blaise shook his head, absentmindedly telling you it was fine, before he continued biting down his toast. enzo threw a smile in your direction.

“ignore him” he grinned “he’s been bitter all morning”

“oh what happened?” you asked, rather worried.

draco softly connected your hands, shaking his head at you and whispering something along the lines of telling you about it later.

“oi, we might as well tell her, malfoy” mattheo rolled his eyes, making it evident that he heard every single word.

“i’m not sure if—“ draco tried to say, but was quickly interrupted by mattheo, who leaned over the table as if he had interesting information for you.

“he’s been rejected by tara gallagher”

“oh” you muttered, unsure what to respond.

“seems like someone doesn’t have what it takes to charm a hufflepuff” theo muttered and you turned you head in his direction, surprised that he had even listened to the conversation, as he was busy, reading a book about defense against the dark arts.

“well, not everyone has the privilege to have malfoy as their last name” enzo shrugged, as he added the words laughing.

blaise rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. you looked back and forth between draco’s friends, unsure if the conversation was going in the right direction.

you hated when the topic would fall on draco’s and your relationship. the slytherins would often make jokes about your unlikely pairing, as if it wasn’t already hard enough for you to believe that someone like draco could really love someone like you.

“maybe draco could give you a few tips” enzo grinned and you bit down on your lip.

“yeah, or maybe tara gallagher is just too clever to believe everything i tell her” the words had left blaise’ mouth before he had really thought about the implication they would have about you and draco. just when you thought it was only you thinking in that direction, he quickly threw a hand over his mouth, spotting a regretful look.

“y/n” enzo muttered when he noticed your teary eyes.

draco’s smile died down as he turned his head and noticed the look on your face.

“sorry” you quickly apologized, as you swung your legs over the bench.

“i’m sorry” blaise quickly tried to interfere, but you were already hurrying down the row to the door of the great hall.

“you’re really amazing at talking to girls” theo stated sarcastically “when you don’t make them cuss you out, you make them cry”

“i’m sorry—“

“—you better be” draco interrupted blaise.

“—but she’s just so sensitive. i mean i wasn’t even speaking about her”

“well, the implication was right there” enzo shrugged “you could’ve been a bit more considerate"

"i'm going to search for my girlfriend before you have time to insult her some more"

"i told you i was sorry"

"safe it" draco shook his head, standing up.

"tell y/n we're sorry about blaise" theo said sympathetically.

draco nodded, before he stormed out of the hall, trying to make you out. you were hiding in a dark corner, face in your hands when he found you.

"hey" draco cooed, taking your hands in his and lifting them from your face. "don't cry, love"

"i'm sorry" you sobbed and draco's face softened. he took you into his arms, trying to calm you down. you stopped crying eventually, while he was rubbing circles on your back.

"i'm sorry about what blaise said" draco apologized when you were calm enough to listen to him. "i don't think he meant it like that, you know?"

"it's not blaise" you said honestly, shaking your head.

"oh" draco said surprised, furrowing his brows. "then what is it? there has to be a reason for you to be upset"

"that's just the problem, draco" you said softly "i don't think i have a good reason, i never do"

"what are you talking about, love?"

"i hate that i am like this" you admitted, trying to escape his eyes.

"like what?" draco wondered, worry evident on his face "there's nothing wrong with you, you're perfectly normal"

"but, i'm not" you argued "i hate they way i always start crying and am upset at nothing, it's exhausting and must be much more for you"

"oh, love"

"and i get that might be the reason that your friends don't like me" you bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from crying yet again "they must think i'm acting like a baby"

"but they do like you"

"they're always quiet when i'm around"

draco looked away quickly before his eyes were back on you a second later "that might be my fault" he admitted "when we started dating i told them to behave when you would be there, i didn't want you to be uncomfortable at the way they normally are"

"oh, so you even had to tell them to tone it down, because i would be too sensible?" you whispered softly, the tears threatening to spill yet again.

"no, love" draco shook his head, touching your shoulders as you looked up at him with big eyes. "i thought they would ruin my chances with you. not because you are too sensible, just because they can be real idiots and would probably scare any girl away"

"except for pansy" you shrugged, a smile playing on your lips.

"yeah" draco laughed, happy that you weren't as sad anymore "she would probably scare them away first anyway"

you giggled at his words. he touched your face, rubbing your tears away softly. "don't cry anymore, yeah?" he asked "you're perfect the way you are. actually i fell in love with you because you're so sensible, while i wouldn't directly call the way you are sensible"

you smiled up at him with hope at your eyes. "what would you call it?"

"empathetic" draco smiled "i have never seen someone being so concerned about the well-being of bugs"

"i pray nobody kills me for the crime of being small" you recited.

"exactly" draco nodded, kissing your forehead "you're the most caring person i know and i don't think having strong emotions is wrong in any way"

"you really fell in love with me because of it?" you asked "i always thought it was something you were able to ignore or tolerate, not something you liked"

"how could i not? i was a goner after i saw you build a bed for the bug" he laughed "i should've told you, but i assumed you knew, forgive me, love"

"don't be sorry" you kissed his cheeks "i hated myself for it for the longest time, but knowing that you actually like it changes everything"

"i don't just like it, i love you for it"

"i love you too" you smiled.

"and i do think the guys like you" draco nudged your elbow "you should've seen the way theo and enzo chewed out blaise and how sorry the poor fella was. they even told me to tell your they were sorry on his behalf and blaise was apologetic too"

"he didn't do anything wrong"

"he could've been more considerate" draco shrugged "should we go back? we don‘t have to, if you're not comfortable"

"i'd like to finish my breakfast"

"good" draco nodded, taking your hand and leading you back to the table.

blaise immediately apologized several times when he noticed you, even after you had told him it was fine. the rest of breakfast was much more enjoyable with the guys feeling more comfortable now that they knew you were alright.

you were glad to have such a loving boyfriend and draco was glad that you were alright.

you cried a lot less during the weeks to follow, a result of you growing more comfortable around draco's friends and also becoming friends with them too.

after draco had told them they didn't have to behave differently when you were around the ice got broken and they weren't as reserved anymore.

theo and you would often study together. he was good in potions and you were good in astronomy so you would constantly help each other.

it turned out that both blaise and you were giant quidditch fans and were actually fans of the same team. you often spent time talking about past games or different players you liked. he even gifted you a scarf in your team's color for your birthday.

pansy, mattheo and you would occasionally visit hogsmeade together, spending the whole day in honey-dukes, testing the newest snacks and sweets and deciding on your favorite sorts or flavours.

you learned that enzo was obsessed with plants and flowers so you often got him seeds to plant and helped him in the garden.

draco was glad that you had finally settled into the group and that you weren't so afraid of your feelings anymore that you actually had the time to notice that they all found you lovely, even if they would occasionally joke about your ability to start crying so easily, especially during a sad movie.

blaise never made an annoyed remark about your emotional side again and you were happy to finally feel better about yourself and the way that you were.

—

@mqstermindswift

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venmondiese · 1 month ago

Text

BELATED ANNIVERSARY

-ˋˏ| summary: With war going on, Tom forgets about your aniversary, and tries to make it better... in the same day. ✧ | Pairing: Tom Bennett x reader ✧ | word count: 6.3k ✧ | Warnings: 40's mindset, mentions of war..., just fluff and comfort.

✧ | note: this was supposed to be uploaded for valentines... but i didn't finished on time and then things happened, BUT here it is. two months late. Special thanks to the people who gave me suggestions in this post! thanks to @yoursweetheartsrevenge @ladylokianna @slytherincursebreaker love ya!

“What’s that dress all about?”

Vera was a tiny bundle of joy, no doubt, squirmy and she’d let some squeals from time to time. Lois would knit clothes and things from her. Tom still danced around the subject, he didn’t judge Lois and he loved his niece, so he never asked unnecessary questions… yet.

“We’re going to meet Harry on tomorrow, so you don’t need to babysit” Lois says, as she sits Vera by Tom’s side -he can’t still believe he named her daughter after the fucking canary- “It’s a special day for you, innit?”

“What, it’s my birthday?” Tom asks playfully, smirking as Vera babbles.

Lois looks at him with a raised eyebrow, as she takes out the washed diapers, and she starts folding Vera’s clothes.

“No, it’s your anniversary” Lois says as if amused that he had no idea what day tomorrow was “What, you ain’t taking your darlin’ out?”

“Are you joking?”

Lois was in fact, not joking. His anniversary was, in fact, tomorrow and he had nothing prepared.

He had to have his shit together in less than one day. He tried to get reservations in fancy restaurants to no avail, since everything was full in advance. He tried to get the house alone for you and him, but his father looked at him unimpressed as he could not simply spend all day somewhere else. Fine, let’s have his dad in too.

He could get a reservation for the new ferris wheel that had been making a fuss in town. It had been from ages now, he supposed that with the war, it was not a priority. He could get one ticket, since he knew you wanted to try it and he thanked God, as much as he wasn’t the most religious bloke, but sometimes he had to thank the Big man.

And, since Lois was busy with Vera, he took upon the role of cooking sometimes, and he knew how to make spaghetti with meatballs. Nothing fancy, but he could make it work. (And besides he had to make the dish for three, but hopefully he can convince his old man to eat in his room)

Next thing on his list was having his formal attire as clean as possible, so he had someone wash it and iron it for him. Formal attire? His uniform was better anyway, since he was discharged a few weeks ago. He could wash it and look even more formal.

He had the bad habit, at least before the war, to knock on the window of your room, asking to be let in by you.

“Doll” It’s his voice as he knocks on the window, hoping you’d open up.

It was always a sight to his eyes to see you in your nightgown, ready to get on bed. It was a sight not everyone could get of you.

You appear into his view, with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed. You open the window, not really welcoming with a kiss and a hug as he is used to.

“You forgot about our anniversary” it’s the first thing you say to him. He sighs, a lazy smile on his lips as he thinks how to win you over again.

“How could you think that?” He says, trying to hold your hips, but you weren’t budging. “Look, I might have not remembered, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have anything planned.”

“It is tomorrow and you just appear now”

“I’ll make it up to you” he promises, leaning to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Will you let me do so?”

Even if you seem reluctant, you nod softly after giving it some thought. You didn’t seem quite confident in his promise, but it was better than being left like a fool.

He sits on the bed, and shamelessly pats his lap so you can take a seat in there. “Forgive me, doll. How foolish of me, to forget about my darling” he says, caressing your face. “I have a little something prepared, but after lunch, it is.”

“Where are we going, then?”

“That’s the thing with surprises, they are a secret”

“I want to know what to wear” you tell him with a raised eyebrow. “I intend to look pretty”

“Why don’t you model for me, hm?” He asks with a smirk.

“Do not be crass” You say smiling “I have a few new dresses.”

“And do you have a few kisses to spare for this poor man?”

You roll your eyes amused yet you press a kiss on his lips, which he delights himself in accepting eagerly, kissing your lips and holding your waist to keep you close to him.

“You only need to look pretty for me, which you always do” He says pressing kisses against your lips, and he separates and adds “And wear something that will drive me crazy”

“You have to ask for my mum’s permission to take me out, you know?”

“Of course I do know that” he says smirking “And I’ll do so, and then we’ll have a wonderful day together.”

He sees your sweet face, and feels bad to have forgotten such a day, trying to make it up with kisses, and hopefully, a great day tomorrow.

“You came just to invite me?”

“Mmmm, no. I came to see your face, to have you in my arms… to hear your precious voice…”

“You are…” you say, rolling your eyes. “You do know that my family is in the next rooms, right?”

“I won’t wake your ma or pa, love”

“You better not, because there is no chance they’ll allow me to be with you if they know you sneak here”

“Why? I am a charmin’ lad, innit?” he says cheekily, making you smile.

“You do have a reputation, love” you remind him. “And I wouldn’t like to stop being your girl”

That has him smiling genuinely, his heart fluttering at your sweet words.

“I don’t want that either” he says softly, kissing your cheek. “I’ll better get going, then. There is a day full o’surprises tomorrow”

“Till tomorrow then…” you whisper, following him to the window.

He turns back to press a gentle kiss on your lips, his tall frame over yours. “Until tomorrow, doll. Just you and me.”

Once he got home, he tried to leave everything ready, but he slept awfully the night before. He was so anxious that you'd kill him. You were the type to resent when people forgot about your birthday, not in an envious jealous way, but in a sad-puppy-face way. And since it was your anniversary?

Even when Vera cried first thing in the morning, which usually woke him up, he was already awake, putting on his suit, and trying to look spotless, and not get too much brylcreem on his hair. He needed to smoke so badly, but he was afraid he would stink to cigarettes when going to your house, and give a bad impression to your mother.

Great heavens, your mother. What will she say when he asks for permission to take you out for Anniversary on the same day? He was so screwed. He always asked with anticipation, much more because he knew you parents valued it.

He had known your mother a handful of times, was very protective of you and your siblings, and she was not easily impressed. It was as if nothing he ever did was good enough, and that… was an odd feeling. He was always polite, trying to use his best posh accent with her, even offering himself to say grace before eating, but she never seemed quite pleased with him.

And in honesty, he could see it. You were too good for him, and he always tried his best. He made you laugh, he was a gentleman, he never did something you would despise.

He knocked rhythmically three times, sighing as he nervously held the flowers. His hair was practically stiff from using too much brylcreem, and his perfume was a bit too much. He could swear he had stung his fingers with the thorn of the roses and he didn’t smoke a single cigarette all morning to avoid smelling bad.

“Mr. Bennett.” Your mother greets him, and he nods. She opens the main door, and she steps back to allow him to enter.

“Good morning, Mrs….” He says softly, and he sees you in the back.

He wanted to hold you tightly, kissing your cheeks and calling you his girl… if you were alone, that was.

“Are those for me?” You ask, moved, with a soft smile turning in your face.

“Eh… no, these are for your mother…” he says a bit awkwardly, and stiffed up before handling the roses to your mother in a chivalry gesture.

Your mother raises an eyebrow, and takes them, to inspect them. “Put these in water” She says simply, a silent way to tell you to go away.

You put them in a vase in the kitchen, and you quickly walk to the stairs to see what they are talking about. Your sister, Lydia, was already peeking from there.

“What are they saying?” you ask her softly, curious to see what they are talking about. You saw your Tom, so self aware and stiff as he tried to make a good impression and take that wayward reputation of his go away.

“He wanted to ask something important” your sister says softly.

You open your mouth, and say “You think he wants to marry me?”

“I think he is just a bloody fool who forgot your anniversary” your sister says softly. “He is all shy trying to make it better, it’s too late, it’s past midday”

“Hey, language” you say softly, but it was half true, by the way he nodded when your mother scolded him about asking permission hours before taking you out. “He didn’t forget, he just… he has a lot going on..”

“Yeah, right”

You got ready as fast as a girl could. Pick a nice dress, and your sister did your hair as you applied makeup and lipstick to your face. If you were taking long, whatever, he could wait, after all, he had forgotten partially about it.

You were distressed about it, yes. Tom and you had been together for a while,. He was your darling and you were his, and an anniversary is quite important for every couple, and everytime you thought he would tell you his plans for it, he never did.

You were a bit shy when your friends reminded you of it, when you had to pray that Tom would invite you to do something exciting soon. You could invite him, but you weren't sure if he would like that.

Tom had a plan; he had more than one trick under his sleeve. Knowing people in town had its perks when he was this desperate.

“Look at ya” he says, as you get down stairs with a smile, and your mum waits by his side. “You look absolutely gorgeous love”

You get by his side, squinting your eyes at him. He knew it would be hard to win your forgiveness, but he was willing to do it.

“You behave well” your mother says to you, before you two leave the house.

“I’ll bring her before sunset, ma’am” he says, his composure still a bit rigid.

Tom was glad you didn’t scold him in front of your mother, but you waited when you two were alone.

“You really forgot about it?! You said you.. you had things planned” You say as you two walked in the street.

“I know I fucked up, alright? I should've asked ya to be my valentine.” he says in self defense.

“you should have! why didn’t you?”

“Because… I forgot, love, between the bloody war and…” he says, as he stops on his tracks to look at you, he is truly remorseful “It's just been a right mad time lately, y’know…, what with everything going on and all…”

You look at him, your expression is sympathetic as you knew the war had taken a toll on him. He didn’t speak about it, but you could see it sometimes. He just came different, even if he was the same charming and cheeky man, there was simply something that was different.

“Give me another chance, yeah? Let me make it up to you.” He says with a huge grin, as he takes your hand to playfully pull you closer to him.

“Mmm, fine, aye, but I am not an easy lass, Tom Bennett. You have to win me” you say looking at him, and you can see his cheeky smirk slowly appearing on his face, yet relief accompanies his expression.

“You ain’t gonna regret it”

Taking the bus was particularly anticlimactic for an anniversary, but Tom made it all fun. He let you sit by the window, and he started to point and say all kinds of things about the people in the streets, the cats, the dogs, the houses.

He leans closer to you, whispering all kinds of silly comments, about how a man was ridiculously wearing a jacket made too big for him, a woman wearing something from the past century, and on and on. He tries to make you laugh, and from time to time, he leans to kiss your cheek sweetly.

“And where’s our stop?” You ask him softly.

“Aye, doll, that’s the secret, innit? I have tons of things planned” he says smugly, as he looks so different with his sailor suit, but he is, after all, still Tommy.

You really liked that he was still him. You have heard of men after the Great War, coming back different. Surely, they were the same person, they lived in the same houses, had the same families and jobs. Yet there was something off about them, their lives changed, and it was as if there was not a coming back to before.

And you were terrified for Tom. You cried when saying goodbye to him, you begged him not to, all to no avail. He soothed you, but pulled away to take the train and leave for Liverpool, before going on a ship to be part of the War.

“Mhm” you say, not impressed as you raise an eyebrow with the curves of your mouth turning up in a smile as he leans to leave a little peck on your cheek.

“come on, doll, trust in this good ol’ sailor”

He loved when you played hard to get, he had to be honest. He liked the challenge of changing your mind, it was refreshing. And there was always a different way of doing it.

“Why are you wearing your uniform?” You ask him, as you walk by the center of Manchester.

“It gets me benefits” he whispers in your ear with a smirk. “In the pubs, I get free drinks”

“Aye, and lasses throwing themselves into your lap” you say stubbornly.

He chuckles, looking at you as he takes your hand to kiss it gently, almost in a reverent way. “I ain’t have lasses throwing themselves at me” Tom says cheekily “Only one, and she is with me now”

You roll your eyes, even when your lips curl into a smirk at his comments. He was such a cheeky flirt, and he knew it very well.

“Look, they are doing a puppeteer show” you say softly to him, which he nods.

Perfect. He thinks.

“Why don’t ya stay here and watch it while I go to get ya something, eh?”

“Let’s go together” you say softly, looking at him. “I don’t even like it that much…”

“No, no, no, no, doll. I’m spoilin’ ya and makin’ it up to ya, no need to get ya ‘ead in a tizz about it. I’ll just pop out in the front street and come back before ya can even miss me. I’ll buy some things we need for later”

He was playing with fire, he knew it damn well. He crosses the street, walking towards an Italian store where he knew they sold pretty good pasta to make at home. It took him a few minutes and all, but he finally got the ingredients left.

With the package in a bag, he walks hurriedly back to you. Leaving you alone was already rude as it sounds, and he certainly doesn’t want to leave you alone, or make it seem as if he was uninterested in you. Lost in his hurried walk, he almost stumbles across a small flower stand. It was perfect for you, you loved roses and plants.

He can see you, on the other side of the street getting impatient. He left you watching some puppeteer show as if you were a bloody child, and he knew you’d berate him for it.

“Hi. What kind of flowers are the prettiest?” He asks the owner of the flower stand, a bit hurried up with this because he wants to take you to the next place quickly, and not to make you too mad thanks to the wait.

“Ehhhh…” the man says, glazing over at the many flowers he has on display. “All of ‘em are pretty”

“Aye, but I want a proper lush bouquet”

“With what colours?”

“With reet nice colours, bright n’all that, y’know, red, white or blue…”

“The normal one costs around… 20, and it could be wrapped with ribbons and such…”

“I’ll take that one” he says, taking the money out and giving it quickly, hoping it will be quick.

Tom couldn’t be more exasperated, as the time he was taking in settling a nice bouquet together was awfully long. It was just flowers, and all combinations were nice and pretty.

“no need for it to be fancy…” he says as he sees the old man picking some flowers almost too carefully to set them together.

“Yeah, no worries”

Tom looked at you, arms crossed and annoyed. You were going to kill him. He saw how the man took his time, picking small flowers, and taking some leaves out of the bouquet.

“Can be quick?”

“Certainly, sir” the man says. “Would you like a small letter to go with it?”

“Aye, sure…” he says absent mindedly, and he frowns slightly when the paper and pen are given to him. “I thought it came with an already written message…”

“It is better to admit your true feelings…”

Tom sighs, he was losing time over this and it was causing him a headache.

The paper wasn't that big, it was almost like those business cards, and he tried to be as delicate as possible as he leaned to write on it. As he writes it, he tries to think about his feelings, being concise yet thoughtful.

After a few moments, he tuckles the card and places it in the bouquet, carefully between the roses. The bouquet was perfect, and he could hopefully earn your forgiveness. He would hate to see your disappointed face all the date, instead of a happy and carefree expression.

“Thank you, this is perfect” he says softly, even if it took the seller an awful long time, but whatever, it was at least nice.

He feels as if time got wasted and his chances of making it right to you were going awfully wrong. He spent so little time with you the last months, thanks to the war, and he didn’t want the next memories you had of him become bitter and sour because he forgot an important date and everything was going against his plans.

With The bouquet in hand, he crosses the street almost too quickly and imprudently, but he has a charming grin when he gets back to where you are. He might have taken some ten minutes, more or less, to take all of this, but he thinks a romantic gesture never dies.

“Sorry for keepin’ ya waiting, doll.” He says as you look unimpressed, arms crossed and your expression a bit upset. “I got you, though, a nice somethin’ to remember me…”

Your face lights up considerably upon seeing the pretty bouquet, you loved flowers and plants. He knew all about them thanks to you, because he loves to hear you talk about what you are passionate about, and obviously, feed your hobbies.

“It took longer than I anticipated, didn't mean to leave you here so long, and… and I was so nervous I gave your bouquet of roses to your mom.. and..” he tries to make it better “I wanted somethin’ nice for ya, y’know. I had to make it up for my special girl”

You sigh, rolling your eyes amused. How could you really be mad to this man?

“It’s fine.” you say softly “Just don’t do it again” you say, seeing the bouquet and seeing the small letter, as you take it in your hand.

“I won’t” he promises, smiling softly as you take the letter tucked into the roses. “Go ahead, read the note”

“My heart is yours, now and forever.” You read the small letter with his messy handwriting, even if he tried his best to make it legible. “You signed off as Thomas?” you ask, the annoyance on your face going away as you smile.

“That’s my name, innit?” You roll your eyes as he grabs your hand to kiss it with a cheeky smirk on his lips. “I guess I went a little too formal, aye. But come on, we still have more to do”

“Good God” you say, as you definitely didn’t wear the right pair of shoes for this. “That’s a lot for a man who forgot–”

“I am making it up to you” he reassures you, taking your hand in his. “And you’ll see why I am using my sailor suit” he smirks proud of himself as you two walk together in the park.

It is only when you two reach the end of the Ferris Wheel that he keeps walking with you by his side.

“What do you have planned?” You ask incredulously as he skips the line, going straight up to the man checking the tickets.

“Nothing”

“Thomas, I know you-”

“I am usin’ my… acquaintances' for our lovely date. Do not fuss over it, love” he says shrugging, and he can be so annoying “People look up to sailors, we are fighting for this bloody country. Might as well shorten the line to take the ferris wheel with ma’ darlin’.” he says with a cheeky smirk.

“Unbelievable” you say, the curves of your mouth turning into a smile nonetheless.

You try not to care for looks, Thomas walks confidently as if he had everything sorted out, which is quite horrifying as he has nothing planned by yesterday.

Tom discreetfully (or maybe not so much) handles a small wad of cash to the man, who he takes it. "Thanks, mate," he whispers, taking his uniform hat off as he glances back at you briefly.

He guides you, your hand interlocked with his as he walks closer to the next gondola.

“In you go, doll”

“This is so wrong” you mumble amused, as you enter carefully on the ferris wheel. It was a two-seater, and open in the air.

Tom settles the security bar in your laps, and he says “Aye, I am doing me best, love”

“I am not complaining” you say, as the ferris wheel starts to slowly work. You look amazed by the technology of it, as he leans back and takes off his hat.

“real nice, innit?”

“it is…” you agree softly, leaning back as you hold the security bar.

“sorry if it is rushed” he adds, as you two start going up. “I mean it”

You think for a few moments. “It’s fine.” you simply state “I am grateful for the chance of us being together, even if you forgot. War hasn’t been kind to everyone. And I appreciate that… even with all, you still tried to make it a nice day for me”

Tom hums, a slight smirk on his lips as he extends his arm to be around your shoulders, pressing you closer to him.

“Of course” he murmurs, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

You two remain silent for a bit, you rest your head on his shoulder as you see the view of the cities of Manchester. He is awfully quiet, knowing how chatty he could be, and you enjoy his presence, as best it might be thanks to the war.

“It does have a nice view, you know” your tone is soft as you speak, the flowers he gave you on your lap, as you made sure they don’t slip to the ground and get crushed.

“That’s the idea, doll” he replies, his tone soft and intimate. “To get the best view and… Well, maybe sneak one kiss or two one we’re at the top”

You open your mouth, a chuckle leaves your lips as you lean back to see his face “Thomas!”

“What, you don’t wan’ a kiss or two from your darling?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Then it’s settled” he says, moving his face closer to yours to press a small kiss on your lips. “We’ll have tons of kisses”

“Just kisses?” you ask, raising one eyebrow to him.

“Hm” he murmurs amused, his lips curving into a smirk. “I wouldn’t say so, but not in here… we could break this thing”

You roll your eyes playfully at his comment, and you look at him. “I definitely don’t want to fall… you think people have fallen from here?” You ask him, looking slightly down at the ground.

“We are not going to be the first ones, love”

You two enjoy the ride, pointing out things in the ground and how small everything looked from up there. You two nervously laughed when the gondola rocked forward and back, and you two gripped on the security bars and to each other.

You two giggle as you get down, Thomas extends his hand so you can get down, and you feel a bit dizzy but ultimately very happy at the same time. He looks ultimately handsome when he smiles, more than his sassy smirks, but his truthful, genuine laughs, his happiness reflecting on his face.

Tom liked to spoil his girl, he liked treating her with gifts and surprises, which was a surprise as to why he had forgotten about this. But again, it was impossible to stay mad at him for long.

“Are ya hungry?” He asks as you two walk towards his house, you know the streets and you have been here a lot of times.

“Mmm, a little”

“Well, I have a little something left to do.” His tone is overly confident, as he nods. Some of his strand falls over to his face, and he makes sure to follow the role of an utter gentleman. “C’mon doll”

You always liked Tom’s house, it had a homely touch to it. It was never as posh as yours, but it seems slightly more full of life.

“Ah, hello” Douglas greets you, as he was reading the paper.

“Hi, Mr. Bennett” you greet him back, politely. “Have you had a good day?”

“Yeah, I went to the cemetery, to give flowers to my wife”

“That's so sweet” you say smiling, almost turning to see Thomas for his reaction to it.

“Will you cook now, son?” Douglas asks Tom, ruining without knowing his last surprise.

“Dad…” Tom groans, almost grumpy because his last effort had been spoiled, as if almost urging him to go upstairs.

“Yeah, I’ll go…”

“Do not worry, Mr. Bennett” you say, as you don’t want to make a fuss. “We can stay in the kitchen, Tommy. There’s no need..”

“Fine… We’ll be in the kitchen, dad” Tom says, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his kitchen.

Thomas was not a man who did the home chores, sometimes he cleaned the living room, or helped Lois rearranging the rooms, moving the heavy furniture.

“Are you really going to cook?” You ask, your smile almost not believing in it, as Tom helps you sit as gentlemanly as he can.

“If I don’t burn the damn house down, we’ll be eating in no time”

Tom is rather talented while making pasta. He describes it as an ‘easy work’ as he boils the already made sauce (which you lowkey think that his sister Lois made it for him, but you won’t comment on it)

He looks all cocky when he stirs the spaghetti, explaining it to you as if it was a millennial technique, very secret and obviously as if he was making the most delicious dish ever.

“I swear that this will be the best plate of spaghetti you will ever have” he says as he prepares the plates for you both. He had forbidden you to help in any way, so you were sat, with a glass of wine and the candles lighten up in the table (which he insisted to, since ti was more romantic)

He stirs the sauce, adding some spices, trying to make it better. It does smells amazing, to his defence, and it definitely made you hungry.

“It smells real good” you agree, as you see how he places the food in front of you. “It seems even better”

“Taste it” he says, sitting in front of you with a smile confident on himself, as he takes his own fork.

You have a hesitant smile, as you move your fork to take a bite of the spaghetti. They look very good, perhaps the presentation wasn’t very posh, in a way, but you knew that Tom did it with all his love, and that was enough for you.

You take a bite, and it feels a bit sticky yet good. The sauce has maybe a bit too much spice on it, but Tom looks at you eagerly for your answer.

“It is quite good” You say, covering your mouth with a napkin as you eat.

It was all he needed to hear, smirking proud of himself before starting to eat. “Aye, I told you…” He says as he takes his own bites. He seems happy as he eats, and then he says “Just good, love? I spent all this time slavering myself over to give to you this plate, I expected some praise, and kisses…”

You chuckle softly, as you take another bite, then you say “It is real good, Tommy. It is yummy” You say as if he didn’t believe you. “And you are just cheekily asking for kisses”

“Guilty as charged” he says amused, as he takes another bite. “Though, I think this won’t be enough, huh. Perhaps I made too little of it”

“It is perfect, love” You say to him with a soft smile.

“I am hearing lots of compliments to the food yet none at the chef” he says playfully, which makes you roll your eyes amused.

You chuckle, covering your mouth as you do so. “Well, the chef is very talented, and charming….”

“Oh yeah? What else?” He asks smirking

“Well, he is very handsome” you add with a smile. “And very dear to me”

His smirk is self-sufficient, as he nods pleased knowing those words are meant for him.

“I’m glad I could impress you with my cooking skills” he says smugly.

You decide to wash the dishes, much to Tom’s horror. He tries to dissuade you, but it’s the least you could do.

The fun thing is that Tom tries to amuse you however he can, trying all sorts of tricks to get you smiling and entertained.

It’s as if he tries to make up for lost time, between the war and his busy life deploying to the navy. You do not know how much longer this whole situation will last, but you only hope to be with him at the end

“I still have some minutes left before having to take you back to your house” he says as he leans back on the counter, watching you with a smirk. “C’’mere….”

‘Tom… your da is here…” you murmur as he takes your hand, pulling you in with a cheeky smile.

“And?” He says, leaning his face to your neck. He presses some soft kisses there. “He’s not here in the kitchen”

“Thomas” you say amused, feeling his arms around your waist, as he kisses your skin softly.

“Won’t you give me a kiss, doll? It’s our anniversary…”

You look at him with an unimpressed smile, as he tries to put on his most charming face. “Cheeky” you murmur

“My da won’t bother us” he says “And I want to… use all my time with you, before I have to walk you back to your house, before the sun goes down…” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Tom’s kisses are soft, and he always kisses you with a mixture of passion and utter tenderness, savouring your taste as if trying to remember it.

The first time he had to leave you kissed him nonstop, trying to shower him with affection so he doesn’t forget how the feeling of being kissed and being loved feels.

“I never want to stop kissing you” Tom murmurs against your lips.

“Then don’t”

His kisses grow desperate after a while, pulling you closer against his chest, and his arm wrapping around you in a steady and firm grip, yet it’s still tender. Your hands are on his shoulder, trying to have a hold of him as you can feel his tongue making its way onto the kiss.

You can feel his hand, wandering it cautiously and slowly towards your body, your waist, innocently enough, moving to your hip and then your ass, gripping it firmly.

“You’re being lewd” You say between kisses.

“Can you blame me?”

Between kisses, Tom would always let out a little groan before going back for more. As if he couldn’t believe his luck and couldn’t wait for more. It was exciting, since he always had a way to make you feel special.

His touch becomes increasingly more persistent, as he definitely grows aroused from it. He had been without any action far too long– it isn’t as if you’d allow him many times, since you definitely did not want a pregnancy before being his wife.

“You’ve missed me?” You ask as he starts to kiss your neck, his kisses too passionate.

“You’ve got no idea, doll” he says as he softly opens the first buttons of your dress, as he takes a peek of your chest. “You’re so perfect” he whispers before pressing his lips to your breastbone, going lower and lower.

You sigh softly, your lips tugging into a smile as he compliments you, making you feel truly like the only person in the world.

He kisses the skin of your breasts, moving the fabric down slightly to being able to. He isn’t rough as you thought he’d be, instead he is caring and tender.

“My girl” he muses softly.

You close your eyes slightly, and you feel his big hands moving along your ribs to your back to take off your bra completely. He had slippery hands, of course he did, and he was a pro at undoing your clothes.

Even if the little passionate moment was like the cherry on top, you could hear the little gasp of Tom’s sister as she arrived home.

“Thomas Bennett” She calls him out, and you immediately try to cover up and hide on his chest. Lois had Vera’s eyes covered, as if that would do something.

“Lois” Tom says, not so embarrassed, but he didn’t want their moment interrupted either.

“Have you got no decency?” She scolds her brother. “You can’t treat your lass like that”

“I’m fine, Lois…” you say weakly as you hide on Tom’s chest, yet Lois was always putting Tom in line when he got careless.

“You gotta take her home, it’s pretty late already” she says in her thick accent and her scolding tone.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it. Get ready, doll” Tom murmurs the last part to you as he leans to take his coat. “Couldn’t you get home later?”

“So you’d get in a full mood in the kitchen? You gotta be a gentleman, Tom” she says as Tom stands there like a petulant kid after a mischief.

You seek your things, a bit ashamed yet you knew Lois didn’t judge, but came to your defense when it came to her brother. You try to get more composed, fixing your lipstick before interrupting the small bickering.

“I’m ready” you muse out as Tom turns to see you, and so does Lois, already on the first step of the stairs.

“Good.” Tom says as he walks to grab your hand on his.

“Bye Lois” you say, before walking towards the main door with Tom.

As he puts on his hat, you help him fix it and get tidier than before. You have to stand on your tippy toes, helping him with a soft smile.

“I had a great time” you tell him softly.

“Did ya?”

“Hmm.” You nod softly, you are grateful for everything, especially that he came back safe and sound from the war. “Though make sure that next time you won’t forget it.”

Tom smirks slightly and says “I’ll try ma best”

#Tom Bennett #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett imagine #ewan mitchell #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x you #ewan nation #world on fire #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell verse

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jackalope-patronus · 4 months ago

Text

An un-promised dance.

summary :: when faced with an unexpected rival leading up to the Yule Ball, Sebastian’s anger boils over. Part one!

note :: the reader is implied to be bisexual, although it is not explicitly stated. Parallels to the goblet of fire movie.

“A butter beer?”

“Yes, if you’re not too busy.” Poppy smiled, swaying from her heels to toe, a light pink colouring her face and nose.

The shorter girl had pulled you aside with a tug of your sleeve from your journey to crossed wands. “I’d love that Poppy,” you nodded, the kindness of her invite tugging at your lips, “when should I meet you?”

“When are you free?” She returned.

“Well, I have duelling practise with Sebastian soon, perhaps after then. I can meet you in Hogsmeade at sundown?”

Poppy nodded, beaming. “Perfect. I'll see you then.”

With a small wave, Poppy had skipped off leaving you warm from her sweetness. Being close to Poppy was much like earning an animal’s trust; specifically an animal that’s known not to like people, such as a cat or skittish rabbit. You treasured her friendship deeply.

“Fond of you, isn’t she?” Being the snake-like Slytherin he was, Sebastian had slunk to your side without detection whilst your mind lingered on the Hufflepuff.

“Sebastian.” You greeted, sighing away the surprise his presence brought you. “Oh, Poppy? Yes, I suppose so.” You nodded. The thought that others could see the softness Poppy held for you brought an undeniable brightness to your face.

“By your smile it seems you’re quite fond of her yourself.” Sebastian commented, a brow lifting at your bashfulness.

“Yes, well, Poppy is a good friend.” You waved his inference away and sighed. “Shall we get to crossed wands then?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, arms falling from crossing over his chest. “I was thinking— after duelling— would you suppose a visit to the forbidden forest? I’ve a—”

“Sorry, Poppy’s asked me for a drink. Perhaps another time?”

A hesitation irked his steps, but he continued forward. “Right then. Another time.”

The brunette’s casting could only be described as quick but distracted, as it had lately been. The two of you won, of course, but the lag in Sebastian’s attention had been obvious. It had been for some time. You had been duelling with Sebastian long enough to recognise when his spells lacked. His mind was always elsewhere.

I need to check in on him soon, you thought, but later. Poppy’s waiting on me.

From a distance, you’d seen Poppy waiting just outside Hogsmeade for your arrival, hands behind her back with a subtle pep in her stillness. Dipping the tip of your broom, you landed swiftly and tripped towards her.

“Every time I see you on that broom, you’ve gotten better and better.” She smiled.

“Imelda has been keeping me on my toes— or broom, I should say.”

“Don’t let her overwork you. Just because you’re the only good competition she’s got doesn’t mean you always need to be racing her.” Poppy stated, her brows furrowing cutely.

“Don’t worry Poppy, I rather enjoy it.” You smiled at her sternness.

“Alright,” She looped her hand through your arm. “Shall we go?”

“Of course.”

After asking Sirona for two butter beers to go, you and Poppy had ventured to a nearby garden to sit and watch the sun set, accompanied by idle chatter.

“So, how are you faring with extra assignments?” Poppy asked.

“Well.” You answered. “I can’t say it hasn’t been keeping me busy, I feel I’ve no time to explore anymore.” You'd been completing extra assignments since your fifth year, one would think you'd be used to them by now.

“You mean you’ve no time to get up to mischief?” She politely jabbed.

You hummed a laugh. “That, too.”

A silence permeated as you sipped from your beer. Poppy opened her mouth, inhaled with hesitation and then spoke. “Have you found a Yule Ball partner yet?”

You swallowed sorely at the reminder. “I had almost forgotten. No. Honestly I haven’t been thinking about the ball at all.”

“Right, of course. I wouldn’t worry. I haven’t one either.”

Who would you go with? The sudden question stung you, filling your head with possible candidates suddenly. Sebastian, perhaps Ominis, Gareth had always been playful towards you, perhaps even Amit if he got the courage. You ignored Sebastian coming to your mind again.

The choices were all well and nice, but the real question to consider was why hadn’t you been asked by any of them?

In all honesty, you somewhat expected Poppy to struggle to find a partner. Her head was always buried in the scruff of some magical creature and her closest friend was easily you. You decided perhaps remaining without a Yule date wouldn’t be so bad if you were with her.

“If that’s the case, we’ll have to go with one another.” You jested.

“Actually…” Poppy trailed, her gaze shifting away from you. “I was hoping to go with you.”

Your head titled to her in questioning. “Poppy?”

“I know it’s rather uncommon… but I couldn’t imagine going with anyone else.” Poppy’s pink cheeks caught your eye and you melted at her rays of blurted sincerity. “I don’t think I’d enjoy myself half as much if I wasn’t with you.”

“Oh, Poppy.” Her sweetness had soon overwhelmed you and you dropped your head to hide your bursting smile.

“Will you?” She asked.

“Of course Poppy, of course I will.” You nodded. Poppy had gasped in delight and leapt to hug you.

“Oh we’re going to have so much fun! I promise.”

“And then she asked me.”

The room smelt of burnt dittany and melting billy-wig sting slime.

Ominus’s eyebrow twitched up. “Sweeting? She asked you?”

“Yes.” You sighed, tone looped with softness for the Hufflepuff.

“And you?”

“I said yes, of course.”

His face scrunched, a kind of cringeworthy melancholy seeping in. The expression made your heart twang defensively.

“Have you an issue with Poppy attending the ball with me?” You asked, politely adding some dittany to your wiggenweld potion.

His expression dropped quickly, like he suddenly realised you could perceive him. “No, of course not. I just wouldn’t have expected her to be so bold.”

You readjusted in your seat.

“Who’s so bold?” Sebastian had taken his seat beside Ominis whose scrunched face had returned.

As you took a breath to answer, Ominis beat you to it. “Nobody.” He quickly uttered. Sebastian lingered on Ominis’s quick shut-down for a moment, but ultimately moved on with a sigh.

“Well, speaking of boldness, I believe I’ve lost my edge.” He murmured, exasperated.

“Have you?” You enquired.

“Half our year is full of girls, yet I’ve still no date to the ball.” His ink-less quill tapped his desk, his potion stand empty with no brew.

“That’s because you’ve yet to ask anyone.” Ominis said.

“It’s harder than it looks. I don’t see you with a partner.” The brunette returned.

“I do have a partner.” Ominis countered, very matter-of-factly.

“You do? And how’d you manage that?” Sebastian’s brow raised, giving you an incredulous look. You raised your shoulders as if to say I don’t know anything about this.

“I got the courage and asked, Sebastian.” He stated, clearly annoyed.

Ominis’s attitude placed Sebastian back in his seat and he thought on the blonde’s words for a moment, his brow furrowed.

You shook your head, amused, and continued to tend to your potion. Although, it might’ve been careless on your part to move, as Sebastian caught you in his gaze, like a predator spotting the ears of a rabbit move in tall grass.

“You’re a girl.” He stated. Ominis’s head was already in his hands.

“Oh well spotted.” You cautiously replied.

“Care to come with—” His blasé, although interrupted, was already putting you off.

“I hope you lot are making plenty of potions over all that chatter.” Professor Sharp’s voice cut through the room, calming the chatter but Sebastian continued, voice lower yet still managing to keep his indifferent tone.

“It’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone, for a girl it’s just sad.” He said.

An offended noise left your throat. “I won’t be going alone, because believe it or not someone’s asked me.”

That statement seemed to have taken him aback, because he stumbled to ask, “Well, who?” His tone now as offended as your own.

“Poppy.” You answered, returning to your cauldron as though you couldn’t care less.

“Sweeting? So she’s the bold one?” He looked between you and Ominis. Neither of you answered.

“She asked me just yesterday.” You proudly stated.

“So you’ve said yes?” He asked.

“She did.” Ominis muttered, his words laced in misery.

“I did.” You nodded.

Safe to say, the rest of the class was only filled with the bubbling of potions and entirely absent of chatter.

“He’s mad.” You uttered, index tapping the base of your wand aggressively. “Won’t so much as speak to me. Does he dislike Poppy?”

“I doubt he’s cared to even think of Sweeting until now.” Ominis had a creased, guilty look on his face, one that always appeared whenever he sat in the middle of an altercation between you two. Fights (or merely disagreements, as you would prefer to call them) with Sebastian were so uncommon that you’d only ever seen Ominis wear it one other time, back in fifth year. “I’m sure the way he sees it, it’s been yourself and him. Always.”

“If he really thought that, surely he’d have asked me right away. And what about you? It’s always been the three of us.” Ominis did, however, have some merit to what he said. Without Sebastian you two likely wouldn't have bonded and become as close as you had. Still, you were friends now, with or without Sebastian. You lingered on that assurance before your stomach fluttered grossly. Perhaps out of a moment of insecurity, you quietly asked; “Why hadn’t you asked me?” You flushed, embarrassed.

Ominis frowned regretfully. “Sebastian would be just as mad as he is now if I’d asked you, maybe more so.” He muttered.

“Possessive boy.” You stated.

Ominis’ hand brushed against your leg, his fingers gently lying on your thigh. It was a rare gesture, to have Ominis comfort you with a touch, but it was welcome nonetheless. “It’ll pass. It Usually does.” He assured.

“I hope so.”

Pass, it didn't. Sebastian had managed to remain stiff towards you in the coming weeks of the Yule ball. It pulled you further into Poppy's friendship, and further away from Sebastian and Ominis. Only greeting Ominis rarely, and Sebastian much less so. Truthfully, before the 'disagreement', your time spent with Sebastian and Ominis was already feigning. If it weren't for Sebastian's constant cold shoulder, this time spent apart would've felt like a natural progression of busy schedules, classes apart and no more adventures togethers allowing distance to drive the friendship apart.

Although, you hadn't considered that reality.

And soon snow fell on the night of the Yule ball as you dressed yourself in your common room, only leaving once you'd adjusted the corset correctly and added a few pins to keep your hair remaining how you wanted it to the whole night.

At the bottom of the stairs on your way to the great hall, stood Ominis and Sebastian, both layered with suitable coats and button-ups. Sebastian was fumbling with Ominis' tie, pulling it straight and tight, although it bounced back to a wonky position. The first step you took had your heel clicking against the marble stairs, and like Sebastian could sense it was you, his eye-line swiftly lifted to take you in.

You felt hot slowly walking down towards them, especially when Sebastian’s face was so emotive. He’d never stared at you like that, and for a moment, you wondered if perhaps that would be the face he’d make watching his bride walk down the aisle. Certainly all the animosity he'd been holding these past few weeks had vanished.

“She’s here.” Sebastian uttered to Ominis, slack jawed.

“Describe her to me.” Ominis asked, and through the crowded voices, Sebastian only heard it as a mumble.

“She’s…” The words drawled from him like he’d been hexed. “Utterly stunning.. ‘fits her like a glove.” He murmured, his usually witty dialect failing him.

You reached the floor, well flushed with insecurity. “Hello, you two.” You cleared your throat, looking anywhere but at Sallow’s brown eyes or Ominis’ unreadable face.

“You look—”

“You look beautiful!” The compliment cut right through Sebastian’s words, then Poppy herself cut past him, enveloping you in a sturdy hug.

“Hello Poppy.” You smiled, wrapping your laced arms around her.

You blinked a glance at Sebastian, whose head hung low and eyes longed for you intensely. It made your body burn to see him so obvious in his attraction to you. Attraction, and regret.

“Let’s go, the dancing shall start soon.” She ushered, pulling you away.

Bless Poppy and her sweet dancing, her kind hold of your hand and the way she smiled up at you with such delight. But God, you could hardly be swept away by her when two burning eyes were watching you. Sebastian, sat on the sidelines, simmering. The magic of your beauty seemed to dissipate the moment Poppy had pulled you away. Ominis had seemed to abandon him and the loathsome aura he was creating.

At first it made you nervous. Truthfully this whole battle with Sebastian made you nervous, but as Poppy stepped with you to the sweet music, chest to chest you fell away from Sebastian and landed on the conclusion that if he couldn’t get over himself, you wouldn’t dwell on it. Of course, he still plagued the back of your mind.

You had decided, when the floor was emptied of most of the students, that it was time you took a dance with one of your friends and as Sebastian was still in too foul of a mood, you asked Ominis.

“You aren’t trying to make him jealous, are you?” Ominis’ hand tickled your side, his grip of your hand was insecure and fretting.

“Truely Ominis, not everything I do is because of Sebastian. You’re my friend too. I care for you too.” You peered over at the chair Sebastian had occupied for most of the night, it was now empty. Perhaps he’d finally retreated to the dorms. “Besides, I’d dance with him if he wasn’t so stubborn.”

Ominis’s furrowed expression returned, guilty and sad. “I should’ve asked you. It wasn’t right to allow you to go so long without a partner.”

“Oh truely, don’t pity me so much. Poppy has been a wonderful date.” You squeezed his shoulder, noticing it elevated his torn expression.

"I'm glad."

Your hand slid across his chest to fix the bowtie Sebastian had clearly done a bad job at tying. "Don't misunderstand me, I still would've love to come with you. I'm sure many would've liked to see us pair up, I know Professor Wesley thinks you're good for me."

"More like the lesser of two evils." The other being Sebastian, of course. You laughed and he seemed to be lightened by the sound. "Truthfully, the reason I didn't ask you first was—”

Before you could get a glance of their face, a body was now standing between you and Ominis. The smell of oak and flames told you it was Sebastian before you met his eyes.

“I think I’m owed a dance now, don’t you?” His tone held a surprise charm that gave you hope he’d dropped the foul attitude.

You glanced over Sebastian’s burly shoulder, to see Ominis already stepping back and allowing the two of you some much needed time. You hadn’t time to protest, Sebastian had already swooped you up, taking your hand and waist with a sure, tight grip that you’d be unable to escape with just your strength.

A silence fell, you waiting for Sebastian’s deserved apology and him likely waiting for yours. You decided you’d be lenient (as you often found yourself being with Sebastian) and speak first.

“No date?” You asked. His face became hard and you hoped he hadn’t taken offence to your inquiry.

“No, not really.”

“Not really?” You pushed.

“Not at all.” He finished. “Has Sweeting been treating you well? She’s a bit short for the waltz, no?”

You sighed, content. “She’s been wonderful. I’ve never seen her glow like this, unless of course she's surrounded by beasts.”

“Hm.” The hum seemed dismissive and it fuelled your suppressed annoyance with him. Sebastian could feel your hand twitch in his own.

“She’s been a true friend. I’d gone weeks without a partner to the ball, if it weren’t for her I would very well have ended up coming alone.” Sebastian hadn’t dignified your statement with an answer, clearly thinking otherwise. He looked over your head, eyes tight with angst.

“Perhaps if you’d not have spent so much time with Sweeting, you’d have been asked sooner.” He murmured.

“What?” You returned, pausing in your steps.

“If you weren’t off with your other ‘friends’ perhaps Ominis or I would’ve asked you sooner.” He repeated, tone low and annoyed.

“Sebastian—” but he hadn’t finished releasing his thoughts.

“You’ve got no time for us now. I remember when it was just the two of us, now you’re always off with Sweeting or Onai.” Sebastian snapped. You felt the air escape your lungs and dread sit in your stomach.

“Sebastian I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t, because you’re never here to know what’s going on with Ominis or I. When’s the last time you’ve truely spent time with Ominis? Uninterrupted.”

“Ominis and I’s relationship is fine. Don’t speak on behalf of him.” You asserted.

Sebastian groaned, unable to return with another argument, but he held you tighter and closer not releasing you from the stance. "She's using you. Sweeting only asked you because she didn't have a date."

"How dare you?" You gasp, utterly floored.

"I'm sure she loves to be prancing around with the hero of Hogwarts on her arm." He muttered, looking to the dance floor as if his mind was reliving watching you two dance together, dresses pressed together, hands holding and all.

"What? What? That's what you think?"

"Yeah, that is what I think."

“You know what the solution to all this is then don’t you?” You took a step back, attempting to tug yourself free.

“What?” He sneered, tightening around your hand.

“Next time there’s a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does!” You snapped your hands away, escaping his grip and the dance floor.

He didn’t respond but reached for you again. You continued to walk, utterly ruined by the fight and having no desire to speak more to him. He followed close behind, sputtering some kind of deter.

You two had come to a quick halt, when Ominis rounded a corner.

"Ominis." Sebastian uttered his name as though he'd come to rescue him from the fight.

"Where did you go?" You demanded, now bearing wet tears. Ominis open his mouth to speak, but you continued. "Never mind! Off to bed, both of you."

Ominis passed you, a new look of anger arranging his face as he walked with Sebastian up the stairs you had come down only hours ago.

"Suppose she thinks she's too good for us." Sebastian muttered, words like venom, dedicated to hurting you.

"Sebastian you've spoiled everything!" You called after him, the emotion in your throat cracking your words. They jogged up the steps, Ominis muttering something to him while you let a sob free and retired your sore legs to sit on the cold, stone steps.

Part two

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #wizarding world #wizarding world x reader #hogwarts #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x reader #slytherin #slytherin x reader #yule ball #the yule ball #hogwarts legacy yule ball #Sebastian sallow x reader yule ball #Sebastian sallow fanfic #Sebastian sallow fanfiction #fanfiction #ive had this drafted for a year lolll #so happy to finally post #please enjoy!

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